


Family things

by MnM_ov_doom



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon)
Genre: AA Zemo is one big dork and deserves a fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Clint has very bad luck, Dysfunctional Family, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Episode Related, Heinrich Zemo A+ parenting, I could not let this slip, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Natasha ships it, Slow Burn, Steve is an innocent cinnamon roll, Thor Is a Good Bro, Thor ships it, a series of misunderstandigs, and there's feels, have I mentioned the feels?, he gives his friends some headaches, magic is a bad thing, there's angst, there's humour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-03-06 21:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 214,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13420011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MnM_ov_doom/pseuds/MnM_ov_doom
Summary: “What is Sock-Face doing here??”Weapons – like coffee mugs and video-game consoles – are drawn and threaten to rain on Zemo while the Avengers assume combat positions, such as climbing on the kitchen isle to make perfect aim to whack Zemo on the head. Captain America, however, raises his arms while shouting words of order, and eventually the Avengers calm down and gather in front of him. Natasha still stands at the most perfect angle to hit Zemo on the head, though.Rogers' explanation is fairly easy: Zemo, having shown that he’s not an unrepentant criminal, is now Captain America’s guest at the Avengers Tower to learn the ways of goodness.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching the season 3 of Avengers Assemble and made it to episode 19 "The House of Zemo".  
> It had perfect material and feels and I could not let it slip away (especially because, in my research for the characters, I came across the Captain America: Steve Rogers comics and Baron Zemo features in them as Captain America's best friend).
> 
> So I just had to get this off my head.
> 
> Please enjoy. ;-;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was watching the season 3 of Avengers Assemble and made it to episode 19 "The House of Zemo".  
> It had perfect material and feels and I could not let it slip away (especially because, in my research for the characters, I came across the Captain America: Steve Rogers comics and Baron Zemo features in them as Captain America's best friend).
> 
> So I just had to get this off my head.
> 
> Please enjoy. ;-;

Zemo can’t quite understand the difference between the Vaults – for unrepentant criminals – and the high security S.H.I.E.L.D. facility he has been put into – apparently, for criminals with a future. He’s locked up, in solitary, alone with his thoughts.

His room is cramped, completely closed, and the private bathroom clearly has been designed for dwarves and not for a man as big as him. The walls are white and bare, and the armoured door separating him from the outside is also white. Three times a day the door opens slightly and a small wheeled robotic table rolls in, bringing breakfast, lunch and dinner, and leaves again once the sensors detect the food is gone from the plate. Zemo has been in the facility for… how long has it been? He has forgotten, and his favourite entertainment is watching the robotic table – he has already figured out how it works and where are the sensors that allow it to open and close the door standing between him and freedom, and once or twice the thought of trying to escape using the robotic table has crossed his mind.

However, he’s still in his tiny room, and when he’s not pacing around out of boredom or divagating in his mother-tongue, he blows off steam by doing push-ups and sit-ups – his mind is restless and, alone and in deafening silence, his memories threaten to speak louder than his rational consciousness. The despise of his father’s voice haunts him constantly and the memories of that fatidic day are blurring, making it look like Zemo played an even lesser role than his future descendent. It fills him with wrath, and when he first arrived to this room he had wanted to leave immediately and redeem himself – and his father’s memory and name.

Now? Now this tiny room isn’t bad at all, and Zemo can hide in shame from the world and hope the generations to come will never hear of his failure and of how the greatest lineage died with him. Wrath has left him, and all that remains is the bitter memory of him, trapped, asking his father for help… and getting none.

 

* * *

 

What Zemo doesn’t know is that one of the built-in lights above his bed is a camera.

And that is how S.H.I.E.L.D. has been monitoring him the past three months, and that is how Captain America is currently looking at him, while he lies stiffly on his back, on the bed that’s a bit too small for him:

“He usually stays like that,” comments the agent standing next to the screen with Rogers. “And when he’s not doing that, he either walks in circles or exercises a bit. He doesn’t talk much, and when he does, it’s in German.”

Rogers merely hums, thoughtful.

Zemo looks… painfully bored. The man has a brilliant mind, he’s not the common brute – it must be torture for him to have nothing to do, nothing to spur his intellect. But it was a necessary evil, and Rogers is positive Zemo – in body and mind – is calmer than what he was months ago, after literally pushing his father back to the past and allowing the destruction of the monstrous – or glorious, depending on the taste – future of his lineage.

Zemo slowly crosses his arms behind his head and begins to sing in a quiet voice. It’s soothing and it’s probably a nursery rhyme. Like the agent said, when Zemo opens his mouth to speak, he does so in German.

Rogers believes the troublesome villain is ready for a visit, and urges the agent standing with him in front of the screen to take him to Zemo’s cell. The agent then leads the way to the second floor of the facility, through a maze of staircases and silent but well-lighted hallways with high ceilings. There are small round windows all along the hallways, and outside it’s the last Summer day.

Zemo’s cell is the last room in the north hallway, and, stopping by the door, the agent enters two access codes:

“Scream if you need me, Captain,” And he stands aside as the door opens slowly. Rogers nods in acknowledgment and goes in.

Zemo hears the door opening and lazily turns his head to watch the small robotic table bring him lunch.

It’s not his lunch.

The nursery rhyme dies on his lips and he sits abruptly, frowning, as the door closes behind Captain America. And Zemo’s eloquent salute is:

“Du bist kein Tisch…” (You’re not a table…)

Rogers knows enough German to understand, and he smiles and shakes his head in agreement:

“I’m not.”

Zemo seems confused, as if the time he spent there erased all his knowledge of the English language. He then humpfs and stands up, squaring his shoulders and crossing his hands behind his back. He was allowed to keep his headband and mask, but all his weapons are gone – though Rogers believes that, if Zemo wants to attack him with his bare fists, he will.

That doesn’t seem to be on his list, however, and Zemo merely tilts his head to the side:

“Captain,” he mutters. “Nice of you, to come to visit…” The words sound rusty and awkward, and Zemo wishes he had at least newspapers in English to read.

Rogers doesn’t mind it, however, the pleasant smile never leaving his face:

“I’ve got a deal for you, Zemo.”

* * *

 

It’s a normal day in the Avengers Tower: Clint is assembling a glorious sandwich, Tony and Sam are pausing their lab work to drink coffee enough for an entire battalion, the Hulk and Thor are playing a video-game and Natasha is judging all these grown-up men from her favourite couch in a lonely corner of the living room.

No villains are trying to destroy society as we know it. The fridge is full, there is milk and pickles. The sun shines.

It’s a beautiful day.

“Where’s Cap?” Tony asks suddenly and looks around with curiosity. It’s not like Rogers to leave alone without a word, unless he’s extremely upset and/or needs to think. As far as Tony knows, none of the Avengers has done anything to leave Captain America upset and/or in need of thinking.

Nobody knows where Rogers went, but Natasha is pretty sure she spotted him leaving the Tower after breakfast, when everyone was busy watching cartoons on the TV.

Clint argues he didn’t hear the engine of Rogers' bike, so it must be still in the garage, which means Rogers left without his beloved bike.

Thor proposes their friend has been kidnapped, but fortunately F.R.I.D.A.Y. comes to aid when the remaining Avengers break from their relaxed routine into an emergency state:

“Captain Rogers is in the lift. He brings company,” the AI informs soothingly, and all eyes are now on the lift, that at any moment will open the doors to reveal Rogers – and his company.

After a few seconds of expectant silence, the light above the lift’s door glows a pale white and, slowly, the doors open. Rogers steps out of the lift, bearing his most innocent smile, and his reluctant company stands close to him, almost like using him as a shield.

A moment of silence follows, until the Hulk decides to make the sensible question:

“What is Sock-Face doing here??”

Weapons – like coffee mugs and video-game consoles – are drawn and threaten to rain on Zemo while the Avengers assume combat positions, such as climbing on the kitchen isle to make perfect aim to whack Zemo on the head. Captain America, however, raises his arms while shouting words of order, and eventually the Avengers calm down and gather in front of him. Natasha still stands at the most perfect angle to hit Zemo on the head, though.

Rogers' explanation is fairly easy: Zemo, having shown that he’s not an unrepentant criminal, is now Captain America’s guest at the Avengers Tower to learn the ways of goodness.

All the other Avengers are quick to point out flaws on Rogers' plan: Zemo will certainly betray them, will provide the bad guys with crucial information, will steal technology, will be the ultimate nuisance. Natasha, being the bright agent she is, is immediately suspicious that her friend has been hypnotised again.

And so Zemo is momently forgotten as all eyes and attention are on Rogers, currently expressing his disappointment at his team’s lack of compassion. That gives Zemo time to think.

He could walk back to the lift and leave that madhouse. Probably the most brilliant plan he came up with lately. On the other hand, he could stay and marvel at how his mere presence threatens to turn the Avengers against each other – and this… this is quite something and soothes a little his wounded pride, assures him he is, in fact, a powerful man. Yes, he could stay, do absolutely nothing and ultimately win that battle!

When Rogers told him about the deal, about spending some time at the Avengers Towers, rehab into goodness and then be free to do as he wished, he thought Captain America was revealing his sadistic side by making fun of a poor defeated enemy.

But now that Zemo is looking at the Avengers, arguing in a cacophony worthy of stressed hens…

Maybe he still has a chance to clear his name, make his father proud.

* * *

 

“You can have this room,” Rogers says as he opens the door. It was difficult, but he has successfully convinced his friends he’s not hypnotized and that Zemo will behave – afterall, he’s the one who has everything to lose. Rogers must confess, however, that he shouldn’t have made this decision by himself, he should have shared his thoughts with the rest of the team.

But since that day, since witnessing Zemo trying his best for the sake of satisficing his father and have nothing in return – no help, no kindness – and telling him he might have a bright future ahead, Steve Rogers has grown to believe Baron Zemo is his problem to solve.

And heck, he’ll succeed. He’s very sure of it. Zemo has been calm and quiet, and even though Rogers isn’t stupid to fall for it at once, he believes these are good signs. Having the usually arrogant and loud German nobleman following him around harmlessly and in silence must be an indication than the three months in solitary have done a good job in cooling down Zemo.

The bedroom is large, with the wall opposite to the door made entirely of full-length windows. There are no curtains and the amounts of light flooding the room make Zemo narrow his eyes, but the lack of curtains also gives him an excellent view over New York City, allowing him to stand tall above all the rooftops and see the occasional green of parks and gardens.

In fact, there are no furnishings at all – despite a lonely yet large mattress on the middle of the room. The ceilings are high, with built-in lights, and in the same wall of the built-in closet there’s a sliding door of opaque glass, separating the bedroom from a private bathroom. Zemo peeks into the bathroom, and is very relieved as it reveals to be spacious and that he won’t have to bend down to use the sink and to shower.

Yet there are no towels, and the lack of furnishings in the bedroom is rather outrageous for a man of his condition: he’s a _baron_!

He turns around, to look at Captain America standing by the doorway. Rogers carries a half-smile that Zemo can’t quite interpret, and that gives him a much-hated sense of helplessness. He wants to play along, give him a false sense of security and watch the Avengers fall apart by the mere arguing about his presence. He **must** stay on Rogers' good side.

So, to show his displeasure regarding the unfurnished bedroom while at the same time being polite about it, he makes a vague gesture with his arms, comprising the empty space between him and Rogers.

Rogers’ smile widens, understanding, and he shrugs:

“You can decorate it as it pleases you the most. I’ll give you a credit card. As you know, Stark Industries-“ But he’s cut mid-sentence as Zemo shakes his head vehemently:

“I have wealth of my own! I need nothing from Stark!” Zemo exclaims, pride hurt. He might not look like he has much – in fact, right now all he has are the clothes on him. But he is wealthy, and if he’s staying in this tower, then he’s getting himself a bedroom in accordance to his social status.

“Right,” Rogers agrees, amused. “Well, I’ll leave you. If you need anything-“

“My weapons,” And Zemo adds, as innocently as possible. “I do not feel safe...”

“Not happening,” Zemo sighs, annoyed, and Rogers proceeds. “If you need anything, talk to F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

Zemo snorts. The AI would certainly refuse to listen, since he has shut her down before. It’s not even worth trying, and he simply dismisses Rogers with a shrug and turns around to look at the windows.

“And Zemo…” Rogers calls again, and his tone makes Zemo glance over his shoulder, to him. “I look forward for you to correspond at my expectations.”

Zemo clenches his jaw, but says nothing. He has been hearing that speech since he was a toddler – and his father had left no room for mistakes. Rogers' tone and saying is very similar to that of the previous Baron Zemo, with the exception that there is… _something_ , something in Rogers' voice and now serious face that is also kind and patient, like the Captain knows he shouldn’t expect a brilliant performance from young recruits.

And it confuses and angers Zemo.

Also… it scares him a little bit, because living to others’ expectations hasn’t been the best he can make.

* * *

 

When Rogers returns to the living room, the rest of the team is waiting, sitting on the couch and looking oddly serious. Rogers frowns:

“Come on, I already admitted you were right about telling you my intentions… But now Zemo’s here, and we must help him,” he says and starts to pace back and forth. “I’m pretty sure that, if you guys don’t bother him, he’ll be no trouble.”

“Does calling him Sock-Face categorizes as «bothering»?” the Hulk asks innocently, earning amused giggles from everyone.

Everyone but Rogers, who realises with dread that he won’t only have to keep an eye on Zemo… but on his team as well. He can’t blame them, he understands they want to protect him… but he would like some cooperation from them…

* * *

 

For the first few days, the Avengers don’t even see Zemo. He’s like a petulant teen, revolting against the world, and his best weapon is remaining in his bedroom.

Only Rogers sees him, because he takes him food, and the brief moments Zemo’s masked head pops out of the bedroom to grunt that he’s not hungry – but eventually taking the food – are the only opportunities of sighting the German.

Zemo is perfecting his plan of being harmless and innocent, Rogers believes he’s just taking time to adapt. Sam, the Hulk and Thor are glad Zemo is simply sulking in the bedroom and give him no importance, while Natasha, Clint and Tony are pretty sure he’s up to something.

* * *

 

By the end of his first week at the Avengers Tower, Zemo finally graces the heroes with his presence in the living room.

Thor and the Hulk are too busy fighting in a video-game to properly acknowledge his presence; Clint and Natasha are training in the gym and Tony and Sam are working on Tony’s suit, in the lab. Only Rogers, reading a book, notices Zemo standing behind the couch, observing with curiosity a Norse god and a green monstrosity amuse themselves.

Zemo can’t quite believe he has lost fights for… _the mighty Avengers_. He looks away and, sitting alone on the other couch, Captain America has interrupted his reading to look at him. Zemo must admit Rogers is probably the most reasonable adult in the living room, and he slowly walks up to him. He doesn’t sit on the couch, though, but Captain America doesn’t give him the satisfaction of remaining sitting and looking up at him: Rogers stands up as well, leaving his book aside.

Captain America, out of his suit, is a strange sight. Zemo has always thought that, when not wearing the suit, Rogers would be wearing a military uniform: but no, here he stands, wearing trainers, jeans and a t-shirt. He almost looks vulnerable, destructible…

“Do you have a laptop?” Zemo asks politely.

* * *

 

The last thing Tony Stark expected to have delivered at the Avengers Tower was packages of all sizes and shapes for Baron Zemo. Even more surprisingly… it wasn’t weapons, according to F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s security scan.

The innocence of the packages – bedsheets, curtains, bookshelves, books, towels – raises suspicion. Maybe Zemo is smuggling high-tech that can’t be detected? Maybe Zemo is bringing in weapons shrunken by Pym Particles? Whatever antic he’s planning, it causes an argument: Tony, Clint, Natasha, and Sam have the firm opinion they should inspect Zemo’s packages thoroughly; Rogers believes Zemo’s right to privacy should be respected because F.R.I.D.A.Y. accused nothing; Thor and the Hulk are willing to let Zemo make one small mistake, then smash him.

The right for privacy preservers, leaving everyone in a bitter mood, and for the whole morning Zemo transports packages from the neat pile at the Tower’s entrance to the lift, then from the lift into his bedroom.

Now, savouring another argument among the Avengers, Zemo is decorating his bedroom properly.

* * *

 

Zemo’s «freedom» comes with having to be baby-sitted by Captain America, especially if he wants to leave the Avengers Tower.

Even if only to buy clothes at the shop across the street, because Zemo doesn’t like to shop for clothes online.

He grudgingly asks Rogers to come with him. He does so, however, the morning after the arrival of his packages, when bitterness still lingers in the air. With his mask on, he can grin all he wants when Rogers accepts to come along – alone – ignoring the frowns on the other Avengers' faces. If Zemo had known earlier it was this easy to breach their walls, he would have used the Thunderbolts for quicker results.

Rogers is glad to have an excuse to leave the Tower for a bit. He loves his friends, his team, but they’re being quite annoying when it comes to Baron Zemo: fine, Rogers should have told them about his plans, he has already admitted it aloud in front of everyone. Now, why can’t the rest of the Avengers _trust him_?  Standing shoulder to shoulder with Zemo in the lift, waiting in awkward silence to get to the ground floor, Rogers can’t help a sigh.

Zemo’s devotion to his father, to his family, his loss… it isn’t different from Rogers’. But Rogers had the luck of growing up in a loving family, and he believes Zemo hadn’t - judging by how Heinrich Zemo, brought from the past, treated him.

Rogers casts the German a brief side-look, and knows that, if he manages to untwist Zemo’s character, he will make a great man out of him: Zemo is fairly noble and chivalrous, only the wrong way… and he hasn’t lost his emotions, like so many villains have.

Finally, they reach the ground floor and step out of the lift. They make their way to the main door, still silent, and remain so as they walk outside, cross the street and walk into the shop.

Then they both realise just how awkward it all is, and fortunately Rogers stands by the entryway while Zemo goes shopping for clothes. The two of them being much taller than most men, Rogers can easily monitor Zemo from where he stands, making sure he isn’t meeting any other villain to help him bring doom to the Avengers.

No villains met, Zemo simply wants spare clothes. Ignoring the surprised look on the other customers’ faces, he’s blissfully quick to get what he needs, pays with his own card - again, ignoring the shocked cashier, no matter how much he’d like to slap the lanky man out of his stupor and into life - grabs the shopping bags and leaves with Rogers. The walk back to the Tower is equally awkwardly silent, and when they’re in the lift, Rogers can’t stand it anymore:

“So… enjoying the stay?” he asks casually, but doesn’t look at Zemo. Zemo doesn’t look at him either when he replies:

“At least my bedroom has a decent size,” He then realises this is the perfect chance to spread some venom. “Your team seems to disapprove of my stay, Captain…”

Rogers grimaces and doesn’t fail to see Zemo’s objective:

“Don't you start, they are good people. Maybe if you socialized a bit…” he replies.

Zemo frowns under his mask, and there are no more words spoken between them.

* * *

 

Rogers is trying to draw a landscape when someone knocks softly at the door of his bedroom. Lifting his eyes from his sketch, he sees Tony’s head peek into the room:

“Steve, we’d like to have a word with you. Is that ok?” he asks.

Rogers nods, puts his sketch aside and follows Tony across the hallway and into the living room. The rest of the Avengers are gathered there, sitting on the couch, and for a moment Rogers thinks they’ll scold him about bringing Zemo again.

“Look, Cap… We’re sorry, we didn’t mean to upset you,” Clint excuses, scratching the back of his head:

“We just worry about you,” Tony adds, and Rogers smiles widely, because Iron Man isn’t one to admit his feelings aloud. Tony replies to his smile by grinning playfully. “But… I have to admit it would be hilarious if Zemo hypnotised you into a chicken.”

They laugh, all bitterness forgotten, and their laughter is loud enough for Zemo to hear in his bedroom.

 

 

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, let me know what you think. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to whoever left kudos! Very appreciated! :)

Zemo has survived for two weeks in the Avengers Tower. The few times he leaves his bedroom, he notices there is no longer tension among the team, and that frustrates him.

Seems he’ll need to come out more often, give them the displeasure of his company.

So when the Avengers are exercising in the gym, he joins them. Silently, he makes his way to a vacant treadmill, sets the program that fits him most and starts running.  Rogers, practically destroying a punching bag with his bare fists in the small boxing ring in front of the treadmills, stops the carnage for a moment to wave at Zemo, who initially thinks of simply nodding out of education… but that would not announce his presence, would it?

“Good morning, Captain,” he salutes in a booming voice.

Tony, who had been destroying robots with his laser-shooting gauntlets in an enclosed room, peeks to look at Zemo running on the treadmill:

“What’s he doing here?” he asks loud enough. Zemo feels like, if he replies, he’ll piss off Iron Man just enough to create a good argument – and have Captain America coming to his rescue:

“I live here, now…” Zemo replies, and it does the trick.

More Avengers’ heads peek from different enclosed rooms, frowning, and all demand from Rogers to know exactly how long Zemo is staying:

“It’s not like he’s doing anything wrong, is he??” Rogers asks in return, his frown matching his friends’ in might:

“What if he’s spying on our training?” Clint suggests. Zemo must laugh at that:

“I do not have x-ray vision…!” he informs, grinning under his mask. It was so easy to create tension among the Avengers, if only he had known earlier…

“But Steve, for how long is he staying?” Tony asks again and leaves his enclosed space, with his arms firmly crossed over his chest.

Rogers is so upset his team is nagging him about Zemo again, that with one mighty punch he tears a hole on the poor punching bag he was using to train. He doesn’t know for how long Zemo will stay: certainly, until he’s set on the right path… and that might take a while. If the German behaves, Rogers sees no problem in sharing the Avengers Tower with him for as many years as it takes. The rest of the team? Rogers can already predict their less than happy reaction, and the amount of nagging coming at him, and he understands friends argue once in a while, but he’s not willing to be crucified everyday because of the team’s intolerance to Zemo:

“As long as it takes…” Rogers replies quietly, and after a second of shocked silence, Tony clenches his jaw and shakes his head disapprovingly. Fortunately, Natasha comes to Rogers’ aid, stating this is actually a good way to keep an eye on a dangerous criminal. Clint and Sam, however, side with Tony, making a point on how the Avengers Tower is a living space and not a prison. Once more, Thor and the Hulk remain neutral, willing to let Zemo doom himself with one small mistake.

Zemo has always liked to train in peace and quiet, but he must admit the Avengers arguing with each other is a beautiful soundtrack.

* * *

 

Later that day, Zemo is summoned from the quietude of his bedroom to the pandemonium of the living room by Captain America. It seems Sam’s mother is visiting, and the Avengers Tower is a mess, now that Natasha has had enough of constantly reminding her friends they need to clean up the common spaces, and not only their quarters:

“Now that you live here…” Tony states with a toothy smile and hands Zemo a bucket with water and a mop. “… you help to clean up!”

That was a flaw Zemo had failed to see on his apparently perfect plan of annoying the Avengers with his presence. He grimaces under his mask, and reluctantly takes the bucket and mop from Iron Man:

“I am a baron…!” Zemo reminds his foe, even if, deep down, he knows his social status can’t help him now. He expects Captain America to scold him, but Rogers is too busy organising the dishes in the washer. It’s Thor, standing on the Hulk’s shoulders to reach the higher shelves and the top of the kitchen cabinets, who scolds Zemo:

“And I am a god, and I am wiping the dust!”

Cursing under his breath, Zemo has no other option than dragging his feet (and bucket and mop) to the gym and start mopping the floor, while Sam and Clint vacuum clean the bedroom corridor. Tony vacuum cleans the carpet in the living room, the Hulk wipes the dust off the lower shelves (not the best thing to do with Thor, on his shoulders, wiping the dust from the higher shelves to the lower ones) and Natasha walks around collecting abandoned coffee mugs and empty packages of snacks.

Zemo feels humiliated, and hopes nobody ever knows he had to mop the floor in the Avengers Tower. This kind of humiliation is even worse than losing a fight, and he can only imagine his father would die of shame if he saw him right now.

But in the back of his mind, Zemo sees his father stand tall, legs apart and arms crossed over his chest, growling that Zemo is a disappointment, a stain on their lineage, and that mopping the floor of his enemies suits him just right. And Zemo’s grip on the mop tightens and he flinches, overwhelmed by a toxic mixture of self-hatred and sadness. He keeps mopping, however, determined to make his plan work, and slowly makes it out of the gym and along the corridor Sam finished vacuum cleaning in the meantime. Mopping furiously, like the floor is the enemy and the mop is his sword, he finally makes it to the living room.

There is carpet all over, except in the kitchen, separated from the living room by the big isle. Most of the Avengers have moved to tidy up other floors that Sam’s mother might visit, and only Rogers remains in the kitchen, inspecting the dishes freshly washed in the washer, wiping them dry and setting them in neat piles over the counter top to later store them in the cupboards.

Zemo turns his back at him and starts mopping:

“Move aside, I must mop,” he grunts over his shoulder, mopping furiously at a coffee stain on the floor, near the doorway to the bedroom corridor. The last thing Baron Zemo needs is to have Captain America standing by and watching his humiliation – even because this is all Rogers’ fault.

Rogers stops what he’s doing to take a look at the German villain. If someone told him he would see Baron Zemo mopping the floor at the Avengers Tower, he would have thought they had been sent by a rather drunk and very imaginative Hawkeye. Yet Baron Zemo is quickly mopping towards Rogers’ position, rather clumsily and very obviously having no idea of what he’s doing:

“Can I give you a piece of advice on how to do that?” Rogers asks bemusedly.

Zemo stops mid-action of dipping the mop and glances over his shoulder. He frowns, lets go of the mop, turns around and rests his hands on his hips:

“Wishing to humiliate me further, Captain America?” Zemo snarls and tilts his head to the side.

Rogers rolls his eyes, summoning patience. He understands Zemo’s hurt pride and wishes only to help… yet he can’t deny this situation is funny. He leaves the dishes and towel aside, approaches Zemo and takes hold of the mop. The handle is warm from Zemo’s gloved hands, and slightly cracked from his angry grip – still, it amazes Rogers that the handle has survived this far and that Zemo hasn’t snapped it in two:

“You have to wring out the mop after dipping it,” Rogers demonstrates, then cleans a bit of floor. “See? There’s no need to cause a flood.”

Zemo takes it as an attack to his skills. He snatches the mop from Rogers and insists on doing the cleaning his way:

“Water evaporates, don’t you know?” Zemo retorts dryly. Rogers frowns and moves away, allowing Zemo to take over the kitchen – that, despite the open concept, is too small for two men of the size of Captain America and Baron Zemo:

“There’s nothing wrong about admitting we don’t know how to make something and learn from others, correct mistakes…” Rogers lectures.

From the bedroom corridor, Clint shouts Attuma is trying to flood the Avengers Tower. Zemo groans in dismay, because it seems none of the Avengers knows water (eventually) evaporates.

* * *

 

When F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces Sam’s mother is in the lift, Zemo quickly retreats to his bedroom, locks the door and crawls over the bed, then lies with his hands crossed behind his head.

Despite having a door and a long corridor separating him from the Avengers in the living room, he still hears them laugh – and among their voices, a female voice that doesn’t belong to Black Widow. It must be Falcon’s mother.

All wrath for having mopped the floor slowly dissipates, leaving only loneliness and a pang of sorrow, and Zemo spares a bitter thought at his family.

Probably the Avengers think he has simply sprouted from the ground, but he had a mother. A kind, loving mother, and before the war his father too was kind and loving – while at the same time being strict, demanding and harsh. Zemo cherishes his childhood memories, of his mother teaching him to play the piano and of his father teaching him sword-fighting, of wintery nights spent in front of a large fireplace and of summer nights dinning in the garden. He loved his family and had been loved back, until the war came and his mother died, his father changed drastically and died too, away from home, leaving him alone to face the world by his own way too early.

Captain America is to blame on that, and Zemo clenches his jaw angrily, wrath slowly returning.

There’s a knock on the door.

With a grunt, Zemo jumps to his feet and walks to the door. He opens it just a little, just enough to slip his masked head through the opening and frown at whoever has come to bother him.

It’s Captain America, bringing a dessert plate with a biscuit on it:

“Sam’s mom bakes the best biscuits,” he explains, smiling.

Zemo looks at the biscuit, then to the super-soldier holding the plate. He feels a new pang of sorrow, and shakes his head:

“I am not part of the family, Captain,” he grunts, and watches with surprise as Rogers’ smile dies instantly. Why should Rogers share a biscuit made by one of his team member’s mother with him? Zemo is not an Avenger, and he doesn’t intend to be the hero Captain America wants him to be. He might be behaving, but his reasons are not innocent.

Zemo is about to close the door again when Rogers speaks:

“Did your mother bake biscuits for you?” he asks quietly, and startles a bit when Zemo’s masked head slips through the small opening between the door and the wall, so quickly and unexpectedly and with big wide eyes:

“Of course not!! Since when does a _baroness_ cook??” Zemo replies, outraged. His mother had had the best of cooks to do all the meals. But more importantly than social status… what has _Captain America_ to do with it??

Rogers shrugs, a smirk back to his lips:

“Mine did, when she could afford the ingredients,” he tells, and Zemo clicks his tongue in annoyance, with no patience to hear sad stories from the lower class. His head vanishes from the slim opening and the door starts to close again. “The biscuits Sam’s mom bakes… it makes me think of my own mom, of when she baked biscuits for me.”

There’s a slight hesitation, but Zemo finally slams the door shut and locks it angrily.

* * *

 

Rogers returns to the living room, visibly disappointed. He leaves the plate with the biscuit on the kitchen isle and returns to his spot on the couch. Sam’s mother arches an eyebrow:

“Am I seeing right?? There’s one biscuit left??” Darlene laughs, incredulous. “Is there a new team member on a diet?”

Clint, Tony, Thor and the Hulk turn their heads to look at the last surviving biscuit on the kitchen isle. Sam snorts, always amazed by the sheer power of his mother’s biscuits:

“Cap brought a villain to rehab,” he explains briefly, though he’d prefer to leave the Zemo Subject unspoken: knowing his mother, she’ll want to take a look at this villain and maybe write a blog entry about this rehab.

Sam is right: Darlene smiles excitedly and turns slightly on her seat on the couch to look at Captain America:

“That’s amazing!! Can I take a picture of him for my blog??”

The Hulk laughs, still eyeing the biscuit and the other potential predators of it:

“Sock-Face will ruin your blog!” he warns.

That makes Darlene a bit confused, and in a whisper she asks her son what kind of villain would specialize in socks. Rogers still hears it, chuckles, but explains who «Sock-Face» is:

“The villain is Helmut Zemo, son of Heinrich Zemo, a Hydra scientist back in World War Two. Helmut was determined to continue his father’s legacy, but I think he’s got a brighter future.”

Darlene claps her hands in excitement:

“Everybody loves a good redemption story!!”

“I’m not so sure about Zemo, though…” Tony comments from the other couch across the living room. “I must confess he’s one of the cleverest guys I came across with, he must be up to something.”

“I think he has a chance,” Rogers replies, then smiles apologetically to Darlene. “I can’t promise you he’ll let you take a picture, though…”

* * *

 

Zemo, lying on his back on the bed, turns over another page of his book. Not being constantly trying to continue his father’s legacy, or plotting against the Avengers, or training failed villains, gives him time to re-read his favourite books, a pleasure he thought forever lost.

A knock on the door, and Zemo frowns and considers ignoring. But after a while, there’s another, more insistent knock, and he grudgingly puts his book aside, stands up and walks to the door.

Opening just enough to be able to peek outside, Zemo can’t say he’s surprised to see Captain America again. And smiling. And’s up with Rogers and smiles?

“What now?” Zemo grunts:

“Sam’s mom would like to take a picture of you to her blog,” Rogers explains. Zemo opens the door a little further, almost stepping into the corridor, and gifts Captain America with his biggest and spookiest frown:

“ _Do I look like a curiosity to feature in a blog???_ ” First mopping the floor, now this? Captain America, under the virtuous shell, is one sadistic bastard. “Well, Captain, why don’t you just put me on a leash and parade me around New York?!?”

“Don’t make such a drama! It’s a good opportunity for you, to show everyone you are a decent person!”

Zemo can’t understand what is the relation between a decent person and a blog entry. This is a very bad idea: everyone can read that blog, including other villains, Hydra agents and scientists, mercenaries… it would be the end of his reputation! It would drag the noble name of Zemo through the mud! On the other hand… Rogers _expects_ him to do it, certainly against all the other Avengers’ judgement. If Zemo does this, he’ll score points and fuel more arguments. He’ll get Captain America on his side and divide the team.

And the more Rogers trusts him, the sweeter will be revenge.

* * *

 

Clint has just successfully snatched the biscuit from Thor’s hands when Captain America returns to the living room… followed by Baron Zemo. The surprised seconds Clint spends looking at Zemo are just enough for an equally surprised yet sneaky Hulk steal the biscuit and eat it.

None of the Avengers expected Zemo to willingly show up. He must be up to something, but for some reason Rogers can’t see it. It’s certainly hypnosis again…

Much to the team’s horror – especially Sam – Zemo is polite towards Darlene, shaking hands with her, allowing her to take all the pictures and selfies she wants and answering her questions about his stay in the Avengers Tower with calm and niceness:

“I never thought a bad guy could be so likeable!” Darlene comments, and Zemo simply bows his head.

Emergency bells are ringing in the Avengers’ heads, but Rogers can only feel proud of Zemo and see him doing good deeds in the future. There’s still a lot of issues to work out, and it will take time, but Rogers believes Zemo’s ability to feel will be of great help.

The interview doesn’t take much time, and little later Zemo goes back to the quietude of his room, leaving behind a sour mood among the Avengers – a mood that does not go unnoticed by Darlene.

* * *

 

“Cap, we need to talk…” Tony states the moment the doors of the lift close and Darlene is in it and out of hearing range. All the Avengers nod and look at Rogers, who can’t help but feel like he’s in court: his friends are all sitting on the couch across the small coffee table, and Rogers is sitting alone on the other couch. Rogers knows what his team wants to talk about, and he’s not in the mood for another Zemo Discourse.

It’s unfair: the German has done nothing wrong, and the Avengers seem to be unable to acknowledge that. Rogers has always believed help should be given to those in need, and so far this team has done exactly that – so, why is Zemo the exception? Why can’t his friends see that Zemo needs their help?

“Look, if Zemo hypnotized me, then why haven’t I attacked you already? Or stole intelligence? Or destroyed the Tower?” Captain America grumbles and frowns, upset. “I know he has a long way to go,  but-“

F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupts, informing that stolen Stark tech from months ago is in the area, more precisely in a warehouse at the outskirts of the city.

Nobody shouts «Avengers Assemble!» and rush to get ready. The Avengers simply stare at each other, until all eyes are fixed on Captain America.

And Rogers groans, because he did not think about this scenario: in case a situation happens, should Zemo tag along with the team or stay alone in the Tower?

“He’s not staying alone in our home, is he?” Sam asks reluctantly. “I mean… maybe we could split…?”

“I can baby-sit Sock-Face!” the Hulk volunteers with a toothy grin, only to look extremely sad the next second. “But then… I can’t smash…”

“I don’t think Zemo should be left unsupervised…” Rogers agrees, and bites his lower lip softly, thinking. “But… we don’t know what else is there with the tech… we shouldn't split...”

“Nononono, we’re not bringing him!!” Clint shakes his head ‘no’ for emphasis. “I can stay with him. I’ve singlehandedly held the fort once, I can do it again!”

“Why do you wish to withdraw from battle, Hawkeye?” Thor teases, without even realising what he just did. “We shall lock the criminal in his chamber!”

“Did you just insinuate I’m _a coward running from a fight_???” Clint hisses and narrows his eyes. Natasha groans in despair and hides her face in her hands:

“Guys, I think we should lock up Zemo, investigate the warehouse and come back as soon as possible,” she says. Tony crosses a leg, a sign the others have learned to interpret as the beginning of a tantrum:

“Zemo can’t stay alone in the Avengers Tower. I think we should accept the Hulk’s offer…” He then points an accusing finger at Captain America. “And you’re staying here too, Steve: he’s your guest, afterall!”

“But… the commanding figures should not be separated!!” Thor complains, worry written all over his face. “And do not take me wrong, my friend…” The god rests a friendly hand on Tony’s shoulder. “… but Captain America knows much more of strategy than you.”

Rogers doesn’t like his qualities to stand out and Tony doesn’t like to be remembered he’s not a genius at everything. Tension in the living room becomes palpable, and Sam risks what seems like a legit option:

“Uh… how about… how about we all stay right here to keep an eye on Zemo?”

* * *

 

“I want a leash of high quality German leather, Captain,” Zemo informs from the back of the Aven-Jet, sitting on the floor and pressing his back against the wall for balance. Besides travelling as cargo, he’s weaponless and his hands are restrained by large and rigid shackles that allow him no wrist movement.

Rogers had lured Zemo out of the room with the promise of returning his sword, and Zemo had naïvely fallen in the trap. The moment he had stepped out of his bedroom, an arrow was shot at his feet, gluing him to the spot, and he had been shackled, pulled off the glue by the Hulk and unceremoniously thrown to the back of the Aven-Jet while everyone sat comfortably on their seats. For a moment Zemo had been outraged – and had even thought Captain America had discovered his brilliant plan. But then Rogers himself explained Zemo he was forcibly tagging alone because nobody wanted him to stay alone in the Avengers Tower.

Zemo had wondered why the team hadn’t split, choosing to bring him instead. His presence, however, is the best of outcomes, and Baron Zemo can’t savour enough the sweetness of victory: he’s clearly unwanted, and yet there he is.

He decides to fan the flames a bit more:

“Where are _we_ going?” he asks innocently, stressing the ‘we’ part.

Black Widow, flying the jet, gives it an unnecessary jolt that sends Zemo rolling ungraciously across the floor, until he hits the back of someone’s seat. Another jolt, and he rolls back against the wall:

“Can we toss him out?” Clint asks quietly, glancing over his shoulder with a frown:

“No…” Rogers grunts from his seat, arms firmly crossed over his chest and looking down at his boots:

“Am I going with you, or am I staying in the car?” Zemo teases, grinning widely under his mask and thoroughly enjoying himself. Not even a newer and stronger jolt that sends him rolling again ruins his mood:

“Yeah, maybe Cap should get you a leash…” Iron Man grumbles, looking outside the windscreen.

“If he stays, he can steal the jet… If he goes, he can give us trouble…” Sam reasons sadly, unable to solve Problem Zemo.

Rogers sighs tiredly and massages his temples:

“I’ve got this, okay? I’ve got this,” Though he does not. He has no idea of what to do with Zemo, because either way – staying in the jet or coming to the warehouse – can end badly for the Avengers, and Rogers would never forgive himself if something happened to his friends because he thought the best option was to bring along the criminal he kinda smuggled into the Avengers Tower. Rogers couldn’t live with the guilt of having his desire for goodness bringing doom to the people he loved the most, his friends.

So maybe yes… maybe he should put Zemo on a leash, a short one, so that he can constantly keep an eye on him and make sure he won’t do anything to harm the other Avengers.

In the meantime, he might let Natasha enjoy throwing Zemo around the Aven-Jet with her unnecessary jolty driving, much for everyone else’s delight. And even Rogers must admit – it’s funny to watch Zemo roll around the floor in the back of the jet, ungraciously flailing his long legs and hissing lowly in German.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna share your thoughts about this one? I'd love to hear it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you kind people for your support! :D  
> (now have some feels)

Hawkeye has the brilliant idea of using one of his arrows to glue Zemo to the floor of the Aven-Jet, and so the Avengers can investigate the stolen tech without worrying of being double-crossed or having their jet stolen.

Turns out it’s just a group of low-key bandits who surrender immediately the moment the Avengers burst into the warehouse. One of them tells they found the tech in a barn in a small village, few hours away from the city, and decided to steal it, bring it to New York and try to sell it.

Iron Man informs the police, and shortly after the bandits are handed over and the Avengers load the Aven-Jet with the recovered tech and return to the Tower. They are silent, trying to guess who’s the criminal the bandits were lucky enough to steal from. Zemo, glued to the floor and having crates and boxes bumping against him, is not amused by his current situation and by the fact the Avengers seem to have forgotten about him.

When they return to the Tower, the Hulk yanks him from the glue cocoon and leaves, following the others. Captain America, however, stays behind, waiting for Zemo while at the same time hoping he’s not being obvious.

He is, and Zemo is more than pleased to play along and give Rogers what he wants in return of knowing what left the Avengers so thoughtful. Zemo strides to Captain America and stretches his arms forwards. Without a word, Rogers inserts a code and the shackles open, and he removes them from Zemo’s wrists:

“What happened in the warehouse?” Zemo asks quietly, and rubs his wrists just for show. He walks side by side with Rogers into the tower and they head to the lift to go down to the living room. Rogers presses the button and they wait for the lift in silence.

Rogers isn’t sure about sharing the mission with Zemo. Especially without the consent of the rest of the team, and he knows the other Avengers won’t want Zemo to know about their business. So maybe for now, in such an initial stage, it’s better to leave the German out of this:

“That’s classified,” Rogers replies with a shrug. The doors of the lift open and they step in, and Rogers presses the button to take them to the living room:

“I could help…” Zemo tries, as innocently as he can, and crosses his arms in front of his chest. He really wants to know what the Avengers found in the warehouse, but he also knows he must tread carefully in order to keep his plan running.

Rogers knows Zemo might be helpful; he’s a criminal, afterall. He’s aware that the German probably recognizes other villains’ MOs, but he doesn’t want to displease his team again and create more tension. He should talk to them first, and if they agree, then share something with Zemo.

Zemo is looking at Captain America and smirking under his mask. He can see Rogers’ brow furrowed, and how his eyes are lost in thought. He puffs his chest proudly: as a swordsman and hypnosis master, Zemo is very skilled when it comes to read people, and he recognises doubt the moment he sees it. He clears his throat a bit, decided to get what he wants:

“I could help…” he states again.

Next to him Rogers sighs and looks at the lights switching off on the lifts’ panel, indicating how many floors they’ve descended. They’re almost arriving to the living quarters, and Rogers knows he must wait and talk to his team first. But he can tell Zemo that Hydra is not involved, no harm can come from that small bit of information. Besides, if he wants the German to trust the Avengers and do good, he should show a bit of trust on him as well:

“It wasn’t Hydra,” Rogers mutters. Zemo smiles under his mask, pleased; there, no hypnosis, and he still could play Captain America:

“How can you be so sure?”

“No brands, no Hydra goons…”

“That means nothing. It can be mercenary work,” Zemo frowns, thinking, and he must admit he’s now more curious than before. Who, besides Hydra, would want to steal Stark tech? As much as he hates to admit it, it’s high quality material.

“Nobody was there,” Which wasn’t truth, but Zemo doesn’t need to know that, right? They could exchange opinions on the matter without Rogers being completely honest about the whole thing. It was a win-win situation: the Avengers wouldn’t be upset because Zemo didn’t know _exactly_ what happened, and Zemo would be satisfied because he was being trusted. Even if just a bit.

“Bathroom break?” Zemo suggests with a shrug, and how come nobody was guarding the tech? Who could be so incompetent to that point?

Rogers snorts and smiles, shaking his head. The lift finally stops in the intended floor and the doors open:

“But we’ll consider the mercenary work,” Rogers tells Zemo in a low voice as they step out of the lift. The careful tone is unnecessary, though: Natasha is nowhere to be seen, so she’s probably sleeping already; the Hulk and Clint are arguing about the last pickle in the jar; Tony and Sam are missing too, the first certainly in the lab and the latter probably gone to sleep; Thor is watching his favourite series on the TV, oblivious to the world around him. Rogers pulls off his mask and yawns, wishes everyone a good night and heads to his bedroom.

Zemo wishes no one a good night and follows Rogers quietly. He must confess he’s surprised with Rogers’ comment about considering his suggestion of mercenary work, and deep down - and against his will - it pleases him someone listened to him. He stops in front of his bedroom door and absentmindedly enters the code to unlock the door:

“ ‘night, Zemo,” He startles and looks over his shoulder, to see Captain America open the door to his own bedroom. So, Rogers’ bedroom is right in front of his; Zemo can’t say he’s surprised, though. He frowns, looks away and opens the door:

“ ‘night,” he grunts in return and gets in his bedroom.

* * *

 

“How about… mercenaries?” Rogers suggests.

The Avengers are having a briefing in the conference room. So far, they haven’t managed to link the stolen tech to anybody – mainly because the usual suspects are under S.H.I.E.L.D. custody or simply off grid.

Tony scratches his chin:

“That’s… that’s a good idea, Cap!” He starts to drum with his fingers on the tabletop. “Natasha, can we trace… maybe… Crossbones’ moves… back to when my tech was stolen?”

Rogers smiles briefly. It’s not his idea, and he doesn’t like the thought of getting praise for something he didn’t do. On the other hand, today his friends haven’t nagged him about Zemo yet, and he would like to keep it that way.

Natasha makes a quick research through both S.H.I.E.L.D.’s and Avengers’ data bases, and in the end frowns disappointedly at the screen of her tablet:

“Can’t find Crossbones’ whereabouts…” she informs.

A nice way to go, considering there are thousands of mercenaries…

Rogers sighs and runs a hand through his hair, then looks outside through the window. The day is cloudy and windy, but the tower, with a sophisticated central heating system, keeps its inhabitants in a comfortable temperature, though right now the conference room feels a bit too warm. Captain America, as a leader, understands the importance of briefings… yet as a soldier, he’d rather be outside, doing something other than just sitting down and talking.

While his friends are still looking for mercenaries, it suddenly occurs to him that _maybe_ Zemo knows who their villain might be…

Under the excuse he needs to go to the bathroom, Rogers escapes the conference room and goes look for Zemo.

Captain America supposes the German is sulking in his bedroom, like always. But as he makes his way through the bedrooms corridor to go knock at Zemo’s door, he hears noise coming from the other end of the corridor, the gym. He goes to investigate, and finds Zemo kicking and punching a training dummy, back turned towards the entry. Rogers decides not to interrupt straight away, and takes some minutes to watch Zemo’s techniques.

Even without his sword, the German is still a good fighter. By the way he lands blow after blow on the dummy, Rogers can tell Zemo has had a lifetime of experience in martial arts – much prior to injecting himself with the super-soldier serum his father replicated. All the Avengers agree Zemo is a formidable opponent, because he doesn’t fight just for fighting and destroying, like most villains do: the German is strategical, and everything he does is measured and calculated. Rogers allows himself to smile a bit, imagining the day Zemo is finally 100% on the good side.

The German stops to catch his breath and bends down to grab a bottle of water from the floor. Still with his back turned to the door, he lifts his mask a bit to drink. Rogers gives him time, not wanting to approach Zemo when his face isn’t completely covered, but when the German finishes drinking and covers his face again, he startles a bit when Zemo speaks:

“What do you want?” Another attack on the training dummy ensues, and Rogers frowns, wondering what gave him away:

“How do you know I’m here?” he asks. Zemo lands a wheel kick on the dummy’s head and then turns around to face Rogers. He rests his hands on his hips, his chest rising and falling quickly:

“You do not expect me to believe you, of all people, do not know people feel when they are being watched…” Zemo scorns, then shrugs. “Though I did not know it was _you._ ”

Rogers clenches his jaw, feeling unreasonably embarrassed: Zemo is absolutely right, people feel when they’re being watched. What was he thinking about, when he decided to make a fool of himself instead of immediately announcing his presence? But what bothers Rogers the most is the tone Zemo uses, so mocking and diminishing. It reminds Captain America the man standing before him knows him in a different way the Avengers do, knows him as _the soldier in a war, the captain leading a platoon_ , and therefore expects from him behaviour in accordance to that position. The Avengers, on the other hand, know him simply as… as a living legend, a man out of time yet capable of kicking arse in various ways, a softie who loves art.

It’s equally bad that he realises he has a narrow perception of Zemo’s abilities, in the sense that he knows Zemo as an enemy, and not as an ally. Rogers decides he must convince both Avengers and Zemo to train together.

“You did not come here just to admire me, Captain,” Zemo’s words interrupt Rogers’ train of thought, and he blinks his eyes quickly, looking at the German. Zemo’s arms are now crossed over his chest and his masked head is slightly tilted to the side. “What do you want?”

Right. That. Rogers clears his throat, annoyed that Zemo distracted him from his objective:

“Do you know what mercenary could be behind the tech theft?” he asks casually, and suddenly remembers he’s been gone for a while from the conference room and that his friends might be worrying.

Zemo snorts:

“I know of two men capable of getting away with stealing Stark…” He tilts his head to the other side and grins under his mask. “Oh, but can it be the Avengers cannot help themselves…?”

“Of course we can, Zemo,” With a lot of work. Rogers sighs, patiently. “Come on, don’t be selfish… Share what you know!”

“Captain Rogers,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupts. “Mr. Stark is growing worried with your prolonged bathroom break. Shall I inform the others of your whereabouts?”

Zemo snorts again, utterly amused. So, Captain America is sneaking away from his team of heroes to talk to the local bad guy. Rogers is pretty much doing all the heavy work for Zemo, and all the German needs to do is staying on Rogers' good side, so that he will further upset the other Avengers. He walks past an extremely embarrassed Captain America and makes his way to the lifting bench. While Rogers begs F.R.I.D.A.Y. not to denounce him, Zemo starts to lift leisurely:

“One is Crossbones, but since Hydra is not involved, I doubt it was him.”

Rogers turns around to look at Zemo, frowning:

“The other is Taskmaster.”

* * *

 

Captain America runs into the conference room, startling everyone:

“I had an idea!” he exclaims and returns to his seat. Clint chuckles:

“To never eat the leftover chilli again?” he teases, and it makes everyone laugh. Rogers blushes, at a loss of what to say, but he’d rather have his team think he was indeed in the bathroom instead of giving out his real reasons for the sake of not being laughed at:

“No… The mercenary… how about Taskmaster?” he says, and the conference room grows silent as his – Zemo’s – suggestion is considered:

“It could be… He has the skills for it…” Natasha nods and starts typing on her tablet. “Let me see if I can track him down…”

“If Taskmaster is involved, then there’s something big going on…” Tony muses, thoughtful.

After a while, Natasha is able to tell her teammates that S.H.I.E.L.D. has been sighting Taskmaster in the area, regularly, for the past five months: the problem is… when the tech was stolen, he was in a bro-date with Deadpool, who had made sure everybody knew about it…

Back to stage zero… and maybe to another bathroom break.

* * *

 

“Why are you lying to the Avengers, Captain?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. asks when Rogers is crossing the bedrooms corridor towards the gym, again. Rogers bites his lower lip softly: he’s lying, indeed, and he doesn’t like it. But there is a lot to gain, and if the Avengers can save the world because he got information from Zemo, then that is all that matters:

“I don’t want trouble…” Rogers replies quietly.

Zemo is still lifting weights by the time Rogers goes back to the gym:

“It wasn’t Taskmaster…” Captain America announces, and Zemo must admit he’s surprised that Rogers is back this soon. He sets the weights bar on the support, takes in a deep breath and sits up, looking at Rogers:

“I am afraid I have run out of ideas, then…”

“So much for a brilliant mind…” Rogers teases, and that earns him a frown. “Thank you, anyway… It was helpful.”

Zemo dismisses it with a wave of his hand and stands up. Rogers thanking him, taking in consideration his opinion… it’s strange, and Zemo isn’t very sure of how to deal with it. But it can only make revenge sweeter when the day comes; the Avengers are separated and Rogers, alone, looks only confused and betrayed before being destroyed forever.

The German walks away, to his bedroom, and plans on taking a hot shower and relax for the rest of the day.

* * *

 

Sadly for Zemo, the Avengers decide that, even not knowing what to expect, they must take a look on the barn from where the stolen tech was stolen again… and Zemo is forcefully coming along.

Zemo, shackled and weaponless, still has to sit on the floor of the Aven-Jet, at the mercy of Black Widow’s proposedly jolty driving. Yet this time, the Avengers give him no importance, and when they arrive to their destination Hawkeye almost forgets to use one of his arrows to glue Zemo to the spot again. And, once more, Zemo is left alone in the Aven-Jet, and he can only imagine his father would both laugh of his misery and die of shame.

The responsible for the theft turned out to be Ultron, that was trying to fix his physical vessel with state of the art tech. Though weakened, he still puts up enough of a fight, and when he’s defeated and the Avengers return to the jet, they are exhausted, bruised and Iron Man’s suit is so damaged he needs to be carried by the Hulk.

The flight back to the Tower isn’t jolty, and when the jet lands and the doors open, everyone leaves and Zemo is almost forgotten, glued to the floor – everyone but Rogers, yet it takes a reluctant team-work between Captain America, pulling Zemo from the cocoon on glue, and Zemo himself wriggling like crazy, to release the German.

“I seem to be prone of getting stuck and abandoned…” Zemo grunts, still shackled, following Rogers from the helipad into the tower:

“And being saved by me,” Rogers states and smiles, glancing over his shoulder to Zemo, who frowns:

“Yes, thank you for pointing out the worst part…”

Rogers laughs, increasing Zemo’s frown and indignancy. Indeed, Captain America is one sadistic bastard who likes to have fun at the expense of his enemies’ misfortune. Pouting under his mask, Zemo stretches his shackled arms forwards, and still having fits of laughter, Rogers releases him.  He turns to face the lift and presses the button, while Zemo rubs his wrists again just for show.

They wait for the lift in silence, and remain silent as they step in and the doors close behind them. Only then does Captain America speak:

“We caught the bad guy. Wasn’t a mercenary,” Technically, Ultron had escaped. Again. But Zemo doesn’t need to know that. He probably doesn’t even know who’s Ultron. This thought makes Captain America curious about Zemo’s acquaintances with other villains, because, until not so long ago, Baron Zemo was an aging man, Hydra scientist and hypnotist. More than that, he’s not the type of man who would willingly work alongside brutish and less intellectual peers. It makes sense that he knows Crossbones, given his connection to the Red Skull and Hydra; and also Taskmaster, for his professionalism and swordsmanship. But who else would he know?

Rogers doesn’t know how to make the question and they arrive to the living quarters. The Avengers are nowhere to be seen, except for Thor, taking the chance that he’s been left unsupervised with full access to the fridge.

* * *

 

Captain America has just left the shower when someone knocks at his bedroom door:

“Steve?” It’s Tony. “We’re out of food. How about getting some pizza?”

Rogers chuckles, leaving the bathroom wrapped in a towel and not surprised at all by the outcome of Thor’s raid to the fridge. He stops next to the bed and starts wiping himself dry:

“Do we all need to go?” Rogers would like to finish the sketch he started yesterday, before he loses interest and starts a new project:

“Yeah, we do. It’s _pizza_. It’s a very personal choice,” A pause, and when Tony proceeds, he sounds mortified. “Which means… Zemo is coming along… again…”

Rogers grins, and doubts Baron Zemo wants to eat pizza. In fact, to have Zemo grudgingly eating the junk food and premade meals Rogers provides him, the German villain must be on the verge of starvation: Baron Zemo doesn’t look like the type of enjoying the wonders of burgers, tacos, pizza and so on.

“Go ahead and invite him, I’ll join you guys in a minute,” Rogers walks to his wardrobe, opens the door and starts picking clothes to dress.

From the other side of the door, Tony laughs dramatically and shakes his head no, forgotten that his friend can’t see the expressive gesture:

“Yeah, but no… You brought Zemo, you handle diplomacy. We’ll be waiting in the ground floor, yes?” Not waiting for an answer, Tony walks away and meets the rest of the team in the living room: everyone is cheerful and excited about going just for pizza, either forgotten about Zemo or blissfully unaffected by the German’s forceful presence.

Rogers, wearing trainers, jeans and a sweater, and with his damp hair sticking to his forehead, leaves his bedroom to go knock at the door right in front of his quarters. After a moment, Zemo opens the door, just enough to allow his masked head to peek into the corridor:

“What?” the German grunts:

“We’re going to get pizza.”

“Good, have a nice trip.”

“You’re coming, too…” Rogers smirks, and he must admit Zemo deserved to be left in peace for his polite attempt at avoiding tagging along. The German sighs annoyedly, opens the door completely, leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest. Still wearing his suit. “You didn’t complain when we went on mission…”

True that, but on a mission Zemo might have the chance to score more points with Rogers and piss off the other Avengers. What is there for him in ordering pizza? Watch the green monster and the Asgardian mess around in the children’s playground while they wait for the pizza? No, thank you very much: Zemo prefers to be in the quietude of his bedroom, reading, going through the family photo-album, buy more pillows online because the dozens he got himself aren’t enough, maybe train a bit and _innocently_ explore the tower…

“I decline,” Zemo grunts. Captain America frowns and crosses his arms over his chest as well:

“I didn’t _ask_ you, Zemo. I _told_ you we’re going to get pizza,” he states, using the stern and commanding tone he had used for young and disobedient recruits, many decades ago. He’s well aware that he’s pushing his luck: so far, Zemo has been extremely patient and has endured more than what Rogers – or any of the Avengers – could have thought; ordering Baron Zemo around, like he’s just a nobody, isn’t a great idea.

But Zemo must understand he’s not there as a baron, nor as a criminal: he’s there simply as a man, to better himself, and sometimes men need to be shouted at to get things done.

Zemo actually thinks about fighting Rogers there and then by what he considers to be an affront to his noble person. Yet again, Captain America expects him to do this, and maybe the other Avengers aren’t pleased about having to share their quest for pizza with Zemo. So Zemo sighs, squares his shoulders in resignation and steps out of his bedroom and locks the door:

“Just like I said: put me on a leash and parade me around New York City,” he grunts at Rogers, who just rolls his eyes.

* * *

 

The Avengers are too busy thinking about pizza to even mind Zemo’s gloomy presence. They make a strange group, walking leisurely down the avenue to their favourite pizzeria: all the Avengers, including Thor, dress like civilians; the Hulk remains himself, enumerating in his booming voice all the extras he’ll want in his pizza; only Zemo wears his suit, and walking side by side with Captain America, they make the rear-guard of the group.

Zemo has seen kindergarten children behaving better than this, and under his mask his face is red in embarrassment. His father’s words, about his inability to defeat the Avengers, hurt more than ever now that he gets to see _this_ side, the side of bickering and banter and civilian clothes and childish excitement about pizza. Zemo turns his head slightly to the side, to look at Rogers and cast him a look full of hatred for having put him in this situation.

They walk past a building with the entry door wide open while a janitor washes the glass doors. A woman and a girl are standing by the entry, looking around and calling for someone. The girl can’t be older than ten, and she looks about to cry. The traffic and the Avengers’ chatting – especially the Hulk’s voice – make it difficult to understand the name they’re calling, but Zemo guesses it’s a pet.

He hesitates: if the heroes walked past the girl, why should _he_ care?

Rogers notices Zemo has stopped, glancing over his shoulder to the girl. He looks back at his team, who have noticed he and Zemo have stayed behind. Rogers smiles and gives them a thumbs up, and they reluctantly proceed.

Zemo is now paying full attention to the girl, to the way she clings to her mother, who looks as distressed as her daughter. It reminds him of when he was eight and his horse escaped, of how desperate he felt because he didn’t know whether it was still in the castle or had fled to the forest; of how alone he felt, since his father yelled at him for being irresponsible, slapped him across the face and didn’t help him to look for the horse; and that looking for his horse alone, in such a big place, felt like an impossible task because he was just a child.

Zemo might be a bad man, in the sense that he wishes to continue his father’s legacy and seeks to destroy those the world considers to be the greatest heroes. But he gives family a big importance, and he was raised with the motto that animals are also part of the family.

Ignoring Rogers looking curiously at him, he walks to the girl and crouches, to stay at her level:

“Hello. Did you lose someone?” he asks softly.

Both the girl and her mother look at him with surprise and don’t answer right away. They notice Captain America standing behind Zemo, and that seems to convince them that it’s safe to talk to the masked man crouched in front of them. The girl sniffs sadly and her mother squeezes her shoulders affectionately:

“We were watering the plants in the hallway with the door open and didn’t notice our cat escaped,” the woman explains. “When we went inside and she wasn’t in her usual place, we started looking for her, but couldn’t find her…”

“The door has been open the whole morning…” the girl mutters and points at the janitor working.

Zemo hums: yes, if the cat escaped to the street, there isn’t much of a chance:

“Is there a basement in the building?” he asks, and the woman nods. “Have you looked there?” This time the woman shakes her head no, and Zemo stands up. The woman and the girl lead the way to the basement, and Zemo and Rogers, who decides to remain silent and simply watch Zemo, follow them.

The woman switches the light on when they reach the basement, that consists of a small laundry area for the residents. There are ten washers and driers and a storage cabinet in the small square room.

Zemo picks up his mobile, sets the flashlight on and, sighing in resignation, kneels down and starts to peek in the spaces between the several machines. No luck. He’s already regretting doing this, because telling the girl her cat is definitely lost won’t be good.

Yet when he peeks under the storage cabinet, a pair of huge round eyes reflects the light of his mobile. Praying it’s the missing cat and not a possum, Zemo puts his mobile into one of his belt pouches, lies flat on the floor and slips his arms under the cabinet.

A hiss and a growl assure Zemo he has found the cat, and he tries his best to reach it. But his arms, so muscled, are too large to fit under the cabinet, and he’s about to give up this approach to simply lift the cabinet and expose the cat when Rogers comes to stand by his side and does exactly that, lifting the cabinet and making it much easier for Zemo to reach the cat. The unexpected cooperation is welcomed, especially because the scared cat, feeling trapped, attacks Zemo when he finally gets a hold of it, and growling and hissing the cat scratches and bites mercilessly at Zemo’s gloved hands and arms.

Fortunately, the suit resists the vicious attack, and Zemo scrambles to his feet holding the fighting cat at a safe distance from his face:

“Here, your cat…” Zemo grunts as he hands the cat to the girl’s mother. The cat quiets down and resumes to growl at Zemo, looking at him with wide and threatening eyes. The woman holds the cat tightly against her chest, relief written all over her face. The little girl squeals in happiness and hugs Zemo’s legs, thanking him nonstop.

Captain America puts down the cabinet and watches with a smile as Zemo pats the girl on the head. He seems at ease around children – and ferocious cats – and he dismisses all the compliments and praise he gets for having rescued the lost cat. It’s strangely heart-warming and highly reassuring, and Rogers is sure he can make Baron Zemo change his ways.

Mother, girl and cat return to their apartment, and Zemo and Rogers go back outside and stride down the avenue to meet the rest of the Avengers at the pizzeria. Zemo is still dusting off his suit, but he’s not complaining about it. They stop at a pedestrian crossing, waiting for the sign to change from red to green:

“How did you know the cat was in the basement?” Rogers asks curiously, but doesn’t look at Zemo, who’s still busy dusting himself off to perfection:

“I did not. I supposed. There are cats at my family’s castle: whenever something spooks them, they run downstairs,” the German tells briefly. Seems he can’t get cleaner than this without washing, so he stops brushing the dust off his suit. The sign changes to green, and they cross the road as a few pedestrians give Zemo odd looks, while at the same time whispering excitedly about Captain America crossing the road at the same time as them:

“What you did was very kind,” Rogers states with a smile, and this time he looks at Zemo. Zemo looks at him too, and frowns:

“Spare me the hero discourse, please. Talking about heroes… it should have been your friends doing it, no? But they did not even notice!”

Rogers’ smile dies and he looks away. They’re arriving at the pizzeria, Clint is outside and waves at them. Rogers must admit Zemo is right, about the Avengers failing to notice the girl and her mother. But his team is tired, and he can’t blame them for that:

“You did, and you found the cat, and the girl is happy now. That’s the matter,” Rogers finally replies. “You made me proud, back there.”

Something that cheesy from Captain America isn’t surprising, but the tone Rogers uses catches Zemo off guard and the German almost misses the automatic doors and walks onto the window. He manages to make a graceful recovery and enters the pizzeria after Hawkeye and Captain America, to see the rest of the Avengers sitting at a table with menus in hand.

Tony, who had been worrying and blaming himself for having left his friend alone with Zemo, demands to know what took them so long. Rogers tells them proudly about Zemo rescuing a lost cat, and to his great happiness the team is pleasantly surprised by Zemo’s good deed.

The German, however, isn’t in the mood for praising. Not from his enemies, not from Captain America. He doesn’t want to make proud the man he hates the most, and can only imagine his father must be kicking and screaming in his grave. Hiding his masked head behind a menu, Zemo pretends to be busy choosing a pizza, while wishing they can go back to the Avengers Tower as soon as possible and that he can return to the quietude of his bedroom and daydream of finally destroying the Avengers and Captain America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for leaving kudos. :)

Zemo intends to enjoy his pizza in the quietude of his bedroom, but a hand on his shoulder makes him stop. Zemo doesn’t even need to look to know it’s Captain America:

“Stay with us,” Rogers asks softly.

Zemo turns around carrying a deadpan expression. Eating with the Avengers in the living room? Zemo looks at the team of super-heroes: the Hulk and Thor occupy one couch, and they’re already eating their pizza; Hawkeye, Black Widow and Falcon are sitting on the other couch, in front of the TV, and while the first two are cat-fighting over the remote, the latter is filling up everybody’s glasses with Pepsi and spilling part of it on the coffee table; Iron Man is sitting on the last remaining couch with his feet propped up the Pepsi-soaked coffee table, guarding his and Captain America’s pizza. The living room is filled with loud chatting, laughter, open-mouth chewing… and there are already burps.

It’s chaotic and Zemo needs to lean on the kitchen isle for support:

“Don’t they have manners?” the German asks in a shocked whisper that makes Rogers laugh:

“Come on, Zemo… Don’t be so harsh!” But even Captain America must admit asking Zemo – _Baron_ Zemo, so full of manners and etiquette – to join the humble Avengers in a day off at meal time, is a bit too much. “How about staying here, in the kitchen? Just… don’t hide in your room, I promise it will be easier for you if you socialize a bit.”

From the kitchen, Zemo can still watch hell unfold before his eyes. He groans, pure pain and suffering, because once more Captain America expects him to do this, and maybe the other Avengers don’t. Fine, Zemo can make this, but perhaps it’s time for him to ask for something in return:

“Very well, I will stay. But-“ Like a pouting child, he puts his pizza box over the kitchen isle, circles it and sits on a stool, from where he can see the mighty mess in the living room. “-I am tired of eating junk food. I want to go shopping for proper food.”

No asking for weapons or anything like that. Baron Zemo just wants… _proper food_. Captain America smiles widely and his heart swells with pride: he’s been right; deep down, Zemo is a good man, first finding a lost pet and now asking for groceries. His progress is remarkable, but Rogers knowns he mustn’t push his luck: so he nods, because the German does deserve a reward for having given no trouble to the Avengers, and if Zemo wants groceries, he shall have all the groceries he wants.

With their deal settled, Zemo lifts his mask just enough to expose his mouth, but still covers it with a hand. Out of politeness, Rogers doesn’t look, and he turns his back and makes his way towards the couch, where he joins Tony.

Rogers is over the moon for having achieved the feat of keeping Baron Zemo out of his bedroom. Clint and Natasha, however, aren’t very sure about having the German sitting at the kitchen isle – “What if he grabs some knives to attack us while we eat?” – while Tony and Sam say it’s actually better to have him there, in plain sight, rather than hiding in his bedroom to plot an evil plan; Thor and the Hulk remain neutral, allowing Zemo to give them one reason to Smash.

Much for Zemo’s dismay, however, the Avengers don’t argue about his presence, and ignore him in favour of enjoying a nice pizza while chatting animatedly and watching TV.

* * *

 

“I do not want to witness another meal again…” Zemo complains when he and Rogers are in the lift, descending to the ground-floor of the Avengers Tower. The rudeness and the stupid TV show the Avengers had been watching was… too much for Zemo. He had a headache from hearing the Hulk laugh and the image of a Norse god being hit on the face with a pizza slice – and getting sauce and cheese all over his hair - will forever haunt him:

“You’ll get used to them,” Rogers assures, and that makes Zemo look at him with wide eyes:

“Get used to them???” he hisses, but in his horror realises something.

Captain America is the quietest and most polite of the Avengers: the Hulk and Thor are brutes; Hawkeye is a failed jester; Falcon gestures while holding his food and glass, which results in spilled food and drink; Black Widow stuffs her mouth and Iron Man speaks with his mouth full and props his feet up the furniture. All atrocities that make Zemo cringe. Rogers, however, sits straight, doesn’t talk with his mouth full, doesn’t gesture, chews with his mouth closed, eats small portions and doesn’t burp like he’s some sort of alarm the entire world must listen to:

“How can you… _live with that_??” Zemo asks and narrows his eyes, and wonders if Rogers’ super-soldier serum gave him tolerance to complete lack of etiquette.

Rogers smiles, the lift stops, the doors open and they step out:

“They’re my friends, Zemo… I love them the way they are.”

“You are sappy…” the German concludes as they leave the building, and Rogers laughs full-heartedly:

“I’m not sappy…” Captain America explains patiently. This makes him wonder that, perhaps, Zemo doesn’t exactly know what loving someone means and what it takes… at least, not in the right way. Rogers is sure Zemo loved his father, but judging by how the two Zemos had behaved around each other by the docks, Rogers assumes the younger Zemo has never had the feeling reciprocated; besides, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files on Zemo don’t mention a wife or children, and that could be easily explained by Zemo’s obsession about continuing his father’s legacy on Hydra. Loving friends is no different than loving family, as friends are the family one chooses. Rogers tries to enlighten Zemo. “When you love someone, you love them as a whole: flaws included. Like… I’m sure you loved your father, even though he-“

Zemo stops, turns around abruptly to face Captain America and jams an index finger on his chest. His glower is visible through the mask, and it takes all of his self-control not to start a fight with Rogers in the middle of the street. It would be easy… Rogers is dressed in civilian clothes, he’s not even carrying his shield…

But that would ruin his plan, and Zemo summons all his patience and just jams a finger on Rogers’ chest again:

“Don’t you _dare_ talking about my father, Captain. You know _nothing_ about me, about my family,” he growls lowly and locks eyes with Rogers. Tension rises between them, and for a moment Captain America expects an attack and his body is already anticipating defensive movements.

Yet Zemo just steps back and strides away, and Rogers trots after him with a frown. The German’s reaction just reassures his beliefs on how Zemo doesn’t know what proper love is, and Rogers feels extremely sorry for him.

They’ll need to talk about it, no matter how much Zemo doesn’t want to.

* * *

 

Rogers supposes Zemo must be really tired of being indoors, because they’ve been walking for a while, crossing different parts of New York City. The day is chilly and cloudy, but it doesn’t look like the sky will pour down on them, and at this time of the day there isn’t much traffic, nor many people passing by. Rogers must admit he has missed long walks like this: the team usually likes to use transportation, and that gives Rogers no time to look at the buildings, to all the angles and shadings, to the different patterns and textures – and he likes to observe the world around him, keep it in his mind and then freeze it in a drawing.  

The street they’re currently walking on stirs something in the back of Rogers’ mind, and he pays even more attention to the buildings around them, and to the small local shops, and to the signs, and he’s so focused on his surroundings he almost bumps on Zemo when the German stops and waits for an opportunity to cross the road:

“We’re in Brooklyn, aren’t we?” Rogers asks quietly.

It’s so different… He has come here once, since being taken out of the ice, and has never returned because of this same painful conclusion: the place of his childhood is different, changed, no longer fitting his memories. The whole world is, but he can accept it more easily than the fact that _Brooklyn_ has changed.

Zemo looks at him and nods:

“I spent my childhood here... It’s so different…” Rogers shares, and Zemo notices the nostalgic tone in his voice. It’s… oddly relatable, and he feels a knot in the pit of his stomach:

“You cannot stop the world from changing, Captain…” Zemo states, more to comfort himself than Rogers.

Captain America still thinks the words are meant to him, and smiles briefly:

“You still go back to where you grew up?” he asks, and that earns him a frown:

“Of course! I have an estate to run, I am a _baron_!”

A car honks, startling them and reminding them they’re standing near the pedestrian crossing, and the time they’re taking is starting to annoy the drivers who stopped to let them cross the road.

Zemo and Rogers trot to the other side of the street, turn a corner and finally see a small supermarket with an empty parking lot – Aldi, and Captain America has never heard about this one:

“With so many supermarkets closer to home…” Rogers states, not that he’s complaining about the walk. Zemo sighs tiredly, like Captain America is a particularly dumb child that needs constant explanation about basic things:

“Yes, but this one is German,” he explains proudly, and that makes Rogers chuckle.

They walk in and Zemo makes a beeline for the shopping carts, and Captain America needs to fight back a fit of laughter at the sight of Baron Zemo, tall and broad with his pink mask and black suit, casually pushing the shopping cart around.

* * *

 

“Finally!” Tony exclaims, relieved, when Rogers steps out of the lift. Zemo is behind him, carrying a couple of shopping bags. “What took you so long? I was about to put on my armour and go after you!”

The other Avengers are still gathered in the living room and look suspiciously at Zemo, who ignores them in favour of methodically storing his goods in the fridge and pantry.

Rogers shrugs apologetically:

“We went to this German supermarket in Brooklyn and-“

“You’ve got a perfectly good American supermarket across the street!!” Tony rubs his face with his hands, grimacing, then points a threatening index finger at Zemo’s back. “Listen here, Zemo: if you pull even the slightest antic…!!”

Zemo glances over his shoulder, grinning under his mask. There, the Avengers are upset again. He can see by the corner of his eye that, in the living room, the Hulk makes a very gentle motion of smashing.

Captain America rolls his eyes and walks past Tony, slightly irritated. He thought the team was finally over the Zemo Subject, and though he appreciates their concern for his well-being, he definitely does not need to be scolded like he’s some irresponsible child - nor he wants the team to nag Zemo, whose patience for them is certainly limited.

Rogers goes to his bedroom to change into his suit, then makes his way into the gym, to the enclosed training arena, and sets his training. Destroying some robots will do wonders to restore his mood.

However, his training is cut short as Tony gingerly enters the arena and halts the robots. Rogers sighs and squares his shoulders, annoyed, but Tony doesn’t look like he’s here to further nag him:

“Steve… It’s just…” He pauses, looking sadly at his friend, and Rogers can’t stay upset any longer. “I saw you, under Zemo’s control… I… I don’t want to see you like that ever again!”

Rogers smiles, rests both hands on Tony’s shoulders and squeezes affectionately:

“He won’t do it again,” he assures Tony, who just looks at him with a deadpan expression:

“Yeah? How’re you so sure, Cap?”

“I’m not, but I’ve got faith in him… and Zemo knows it, and he’ll take it in consideration.”

Tony groans in exasperation: Rogers’ naïve trust on someone’s good nature will be the death of him someday – that if, of course, the Avengers aren’t there to look after him. They are, therefore there are no reasons for concern. Tony gives Rogers a playful punch on the arm, not that Rogers feels the punch at all, and is about to announce he’ll get his suit as well and join his friend in training.

Yet F.R.I.D.A.Y. warns the Wrecking Crew are causing mayhem in the downtown.

* * *

 

Zemo has just stored the last jar of Sauerkraut in the pantry when the tower’s AI informs there’s trouble.

The Avengers in the living room jump to their feet and run into their respective bedrooms to equip. Zemo, however, stands right there, with his hands behind his back. He knows he’ll have to tag along again, certainly shackled: it bothers and humiliates him, but at the same time it’s another perfect opportunity to study the Avengers and try to mess with their dynamics.

As expected, Captain America comes running, fully equipped and with a pair of shackles. Zemo tilts his head and stretches his arms forwards:

“When am I getting my leash, Captain?” he asks while Rogers shackles him.

Iron Man shows up the next moment, with pieces of his suit still flying around him to assemble into his armour:

“Will you keep your kinks to yourself and leave Cap out of it? He’s an elderly citizen and deserves respect!” And Tony grins, because he has just made fun of both Baron Zemo and Captain America at the same time… and both of them glower at him:

“Well… Zemo’s an elderly citizen too…” Hawkeye comments as he runs past them towards the lift, fumbling with the buckle of his quiver as he straps it to his back:

“Listen here, weakling…!” Zemo growls and intends to go after Hawkeye, but Rogers’ laughter distracts him:

“They like you already!” Rogers explains, which isn’t true at all – but will hopefully appease Zemo.

Well… it does not. Baron Zemo is mortified: the last thing he needs is that the Avengers like him, because that would automatically ruin his plan of turning them against each other and isolate Captain America.

Towed into the lift by Rogers, Zemo hurriedly thinks of a plan B, and maybe the Avengers liking him might have some advantages, like eventually unshackling him – which would be perfect for sabotaging them on missions – and maybe it could still work to turn them against each other… via the unglorified ways of gossip.

It could work… the heroes are so proud, they would be easy to manipulate if their pride was wounded.

* * *

 

The Wrecking Crew are assaulting a major bank right in the downtown. There are people running and screaming and filming with their mobiles; there is shattered glass all over the ground from the bank windows and automatic doors; some policemen are already at the scene, blocking the streets and causing massive traffic jams as they evacuate civilians, manage the traffic and try to stop the wrongdoers.

Zemo sees all the mess through the Aven-Jet’s windscreen, and it makes him curious – the flight is short and not so jolty, and he manages to stay on his feet and peek over the sitting Avengers.

Natasha finds enough space to land in the middle of the street, between the bank and the police cars, and once again the Avengers go into battle and leave Zemo alone, glued to the floor of the jet.

Sadly for the Avengers, the Wrecking Crew has taken hostages, and it turns a relatively simple fight into a much more complicated mission.

And it takes time, and inside the jet, hearing the ruckus outside and getting only glimpses of the action through the windscreen, Zemo is curious and wishes he could at least know what’s going on and who the criminals are.

Suddenly, the door is yanked open by a massive man carrying an equally massive crowbar. The man steps in, but freezes the moment he spots Zemo.

Zemo narrows his eyes, and this is a very bad time to be glued to the floor and shackled: he cannot defend himself properly if the man attacks him with the crowbar.

The man recovers from the shock of finding someone in the Aven-Jet and smirks, gesturing with his weapon of choice towards Zemo:

“The Avengers got you before showing up, uh?” he asks, and walks towards Zemo. The German opts for remaining silent, but the moment the other man raises the crowbar above his head, he instinctively raises his shackled wrists above his head to protect himself.

Surprisingly, the man hits the shackles instead of Zemo, and after a few blows the shackles short-circuit and creak open:

“Away with you!” the man then exclaims in amusement and uses the crowbar to break through the cocoon of glue keeping Zemo on the spot. After freeing the German, he merrily shoves him out of the Aven-Jet.

And that is how Zemo’s wish of seeing what’s going on comes true: he stumbles out of the jet and into the fray, unarmed, and has only time to duck a massive piece of pavement from the inside of the bank that is thrown at the Aven-Jet.

Confused, he looks around: Hawkeye and Black Widow are busy running back and forth, leading people out of the bank and behind the relative safety of the police cars; Iron Man and Falcon are hovering above the jet and shooting at it, to disable it; Thor is busy battling a foe dressed in a red and white suit; the Hulk is fighting a man armed with a wrecking ball; Captain America is protecting himself with his shield from the massive blows of a man dressed in yellow.

Zemo could seize the opportunity, ditch his plan of destroying the Avengers from the inside, run away and go back to the traditional methods of being an outside enemy. Still, either of those options require the Avengers in one piece for him to destroy – especially… Captain America. Judging by the ongoing battle, Zemo will have nothing to defeat, and he can’t let that happen.

So, for the sake of assuring for himself the privilege of destroying the Avengers and Captain America, Zemo sneaks behind the villain in the yellow suit and choke holds him. His intention is to strangle the villain, but Rogers loses no time in using his shield to knock out his attacker, who goes limp in Zemo’s hold and is then reluctantly released:

“Switch places with Hawkeye, we need him in the fight!” Rogers commands, raising his voice over the ruckus. He can ask later how the hell Zemo freed himself, now there’s no time for that.

Zemo hesitates for a second, because who’s Captain America to give orders to him, _Baron_ Zemo?

Yet if he does as he is told, he’ll score points with Rogers, and the other heroes won’t be pleased to see him on the loose in such a critical situation. So he nods at Rogers and runs to the bank, dodging right on time from the Hulk, who’s been hit by the wrecking ball and sent stumbling backwards.

He gets in the bank: there are still a few civilians inside, all lying flat on the floor with their arms crossed above their heads for protection. Black Widow and Hawkeye are helping an elderly woman to her feet, and Zemo strides to them and pushes Hawkeye aside:

“Captain America requires your assistance outside,” he grunts when Black Widow and Hawkeye look at him with wide eyes and reach for their weapons:

“How did you get here???” Black Widow asks, and she lets go of the elderly woman to get her batons.

Zemo catches the woman and unceremoniously holds her under one of his arms:

“Man with crowbar. Now…” And he turns his masked head at Hawkeye. “… you do not want to jeopardize the mission, do you?”

Clint and Natasha exchange a look, both of them frowning. But Black Widow nods and points a threatening baton at Zemo:

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” she assures Clint.

Zemo snorts, amused, reaches out for another citizen that is equally held under his arm and runs outside.

Truth is: Zemo alone can take the hostages to security much faster than Clint and Natasha, because he can carry two people at once. Widow is quick to realise it, and she leaves transportation to Zemo and decides to simply watch his back to make sure none of the members of the Wrecking Crew attack him when he’s carrying the civilians to safety.

Finally, all the hostages are evacuated, and Zemo is putting down a particularly upset woman when a man, shoving by-standers and policemen aside with frantic despair, holds him strongly by the arms:

“Where is my son??” the man cries. Zemo frowns and easily pushes the man away. “Please, I can’t find him! He’s not here!”

“There is no one left inside,” Zemo replies dryly, and he looks over his shoulder, in search of Black Widow, to call her to handle diplomacy.

Sadly for him, she’s helping Iron Man and Falcon with the jet and its unwanted occupant…

The man holds Zemo’s arms again, pleadingly:

“Are you sure? He’s just a boy, with red hair, freckles, blue eyes, baggy clothes…”

Zemo looks at the man again, annoyed. There was no such boy when he went inside the bank, certainly he had already been removed by Hawkeye and Black Widow. He’s about to tell the man to look better among the crowd, to call his son’s mobile… but the way the man looks at him, with tears in his eyes and face contorted in pain, feels like a slap on the face.

Would his own father worry for him like that? Would his father cry for him?

Feeling a knot in his throat, Zemo shakes himself free and runs back into the bank.

The glass windows and doors are broken and the glass is shattered in the floor; there’s a massive chunk of marble pavement missing; the decorative plants are scattered through the floor, the tables and chairs and office couches are torn or upturned and the queue management kiosks are broken. Zemo stands there feeling awkward and unnecessarily tense.

A big crash outside startles him, and Zemo strides nervously to the service desks. The computers and phones appear to have been left unharmed, but the bank staff’s chairs are all upturned, suggesting the people left in a hurry:

“Is anybody here?” he asks, and then curses lowly under his breath, because a scared child would never willingly give away their location. With a sigh, he jumps over the desks and his booted feet smash someone’s abandoned mobile. In this side of the desks, there’s only separate office desks, printers and stacks of paper… nobody could have hidden here.  Taking a quick peek under the service desks, Zemo concludes there’s no one.

He jumps to the other side again and feels strangely sad that he’ll have to tell the man his son is not there.

There is another crash outside, Zemo takes a last look around… and then he notices the office couches: large, dark… and one of those is upturned, creating a perfect hiding place for someone small enough.

Zemo walks carefully to the couch, kneels next to it and peeks under it.

In the tight space between the upturned couch and the floor, a red-haired boy with teary and wide blue eyes looks back at him, holding his breath.

Zemo offers the boy a gloved hand:

“Come on, your father is worried,” Yet the boy makes no movement. Zemo sighs, patiently, and there’s another crash outside and an ominous rumble. “You do not need to be afraid, child: the Avengers are outside.”

The boy blinks his eyes slowly:

“T-the... Avengers…?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re not an Avenger…”

Zemo narrows his eyes, because the kid has a point. For a moment, he considers to just flip the couch away, grab the kid and take him back to his father. But that is not how children are dealt with, and Zemo is proud that he knows how to deal with children:

“No, but I am friends with Captain America. He called me to help you,” he tries again.

The boy considers, but finally crawls from under the upturned couch and allows Zemo to pick him up. He’s small and slender and weights nothing to the German, and he frowns:

“What were you doing here, child?” he asks, holding the kid under the arms in front of him. The boy isn’t teary anymore and he smiles proudly:

“My dad was leaving work and I was keeping him a place in the queue! That way he’d be done faster and we’d have more time for hot dogs!”

Zemo smiles softly under his mask and holds the kid under his arm, like he had been doing previously. The boy giggles, apparently forgotten he was in danger:

“What is your name? Why do you have a pink mask? My favourite Avenger is Hawkeye, who’s yours?”

Zemo should drop the kid for his bad taste in favourite super-heroes…

“You can call me Helmut. As for the mask, it was the first one I picked from the drawer.”

“You’re funny, I like you!” the boy cheers, all fear gone. Zemo simply smiles under his mask and makes his way to the entry.

Outside the fight is almost over: the man with the crowbar has been brought outside and lies defeated at the feet of Captain America; the villain in yellow is still unconscious; the man with the wrecking ball is finally knocked out by the Hulk:

“Look, it’s Hawkeye!” the boy squeals in delight as he spots his favourite Avenger shooting an arrow at the villain in the red and white suit, still battling Thor. The arrow stuns the villain, Thor grabs him by the shoulders and tosses him away.

The villain hits a pillar supporting the row of balconies from the upper office rooms. The pillar has already been hit several times, and it gives away just as Zemo is passing by with the boy, bringing down a large chunk of the building.

* * *

 

Captain America looks around: only Thor is still fighting, and he smiles, imagining how much the Hulk with tease Thor about the time he took to defeat his foe.

Then his eyes catch Zemo leaving the bank with a kid under his arm, and he can’t help but feel his heart swell with pride. Zemo seems to have no problems dealing with children, which might come in handy since the Avengers tend to be socially awkward towards their younger fans.

It all happens too fast and at the same time: Thor throwing away his enemy and Zemo leaving the inside of the bank; the villain hitting the battered pillar and crashing it, and the row of upper balconies above the entrance to the bank crushing down on Zemo and the kid.

Iron Man and Falcon rush to protect the crowd of rescued hostages and policemen from the debris, but Captain America runs at the still crumbling front of the building feeling his heart drop to his stomach.

The last thing he wants is the poor child getting hurt – or killed. And he must admit the perspective of Zemo getting injured isn’t good either: what if he blames the Avengers for it and goes back to his old ways?

Hawkeye and Black Widow stay behind, securing the knocked out Wrecking Crew, but the Hulk and Thor come to Rogers’ aid and start to remove rubble:

“Zemo?” Rogers calls as he tries to get to the German and to the kid. He’s about to request Iron Man for a scan to have their exact location when a block of concrete is furiously shoved aside and Zemo’s masked head pops from under the ruins, glowering at Rogers: the mask is torn on the left, exposing a bruised cheekbone, and the headband is lopsided.

The Avengers collectively hold their breath, and in the sudden and ominous silence, Zemo snarls in pain and stands up, pushing away the rubble with his back and his free arm, while his other arm is still holding the red-haired boy, dusty but unscathed thanks to Zemo shielding him with his back.

Zemo’s suit is a bit ripped on his arms, back and torso, and one of the knees is threadbare. The black fabric is greyish from the dust and bloodstained around the torn edges, though the super-soldier serum in his veins has already accelerated the healing and, in a few hours, he’ll have only slight scars.

A man breaks the silence by shoving a policeman aside and darting towards Zemo and the boy, laughing and crying and pretty much snatching his son from Zemo, who loses balance and would have fallen on his butt if the Hulk hadn’t caught him by the arm.

Yet Zemo just snarls again and shakes his arm free, and wobbles away from the debris in a most undignified way. Captain America hurriedly follows him, and he can only hope Zemo isn’t injured and that this incident hasn’t compromised Zemo’s rehab into goodness.

“Thank you, sir!” the father of the boy shouts after Zemo, who doesn’t even look over his shoulder and dismisses the man with a gesture of his hand:

“Will you be fine, Helmut?” the boy asks in turn, and that makes Zemo stop and glance behind. He just nods, but it’s enough to put a smile on the boy’s face, and he waves good-bye enthusiastically.

The crowd begins to disperse, leaving only the Avengers, the knocked-out Wrecking Crew, the destroyed Aven-Jet and a slightly swaying Baron Zemo. The Avengers are awkwardly quiet, none of them very sure of what to say – or what to do. They certainly weren’t expecting this turn of events…

The Hulk is the first to break the silence:

“Guess I’ll go ahead, take the Puny Crew to the cells… Then I'll come back to get the jet,” he mutters, grabs the villains by their scruffs and leaps away:

“Right. Everyone who can’t fly, grab someone who can!” Iron Man instructs and holds hands with Rogers. Hawkeye links arms with Thor and Natasha does the same to Flacon, and then they all look inquiringly at Zemo.

Zemo, who’s shaking in wrath and pain, but still tries to look big and imposing – and perfectly okay – by squaring his shoulders as much as possible:

“I will walk,” he grunts through gritted teeth, and all he wants is to strangle the Avengers one by one while yelling at them in German just to scare them.

There, he did one good thing, and what happened? The whole front of an office building fell on him. What a great reward!

He’s just about to walk away when Rogers holds him by an arm, and he flinches, because Captain America might have touched a nasty bruise:

“We’ll take you home,” Rogers says sternly, because by no means an injured man – with super-soldier serum or not – would walk alone under his watch. Zemo is either too furious or too sore to reply, and Rogers nods at Iron Man and he takes off, bringing Rogers and Zemo along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opinions, anyone?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your support. :) It really fuels my writing!
> 
> (also... I've noticed there are double beginning and ending notes in the chapters, I don't know why and seems I can't fix it... ao3, wtf??)

The serum is a great power-inducer and regenerative, but it’s not an analgesic. Zemo feels the pain of having the entire front a building falling on him, and Rogers knows it.

When the Avengers land on the helipad, the Hulk is already leaving again to fetch the ruined jet.

There is no banter, no jokes, no reviews on the battle. The heroes are silent, waiting for Zemo’s outburst about the incident and, consequently, another battle.

However, Zemo just walks away stiffly, clenched fists standing rigidly by his side as he moves. Without a word or a look behind, he ignores the lift and goes straight to the stairs, and Rogers can only imagine how pissed the German is.

He sighs and frowns at Thor:

“The next time can you just… not toss your opponents towards breakable stuff?” he asks quietly. Rogers must admit he’s a bit upset: he doesn’t like when his team members - official or not - get injured because of avoidable recklessness. He feels responsible for Zemo, has felt like that the moment he helped him back to his feet, by the docks, months ago. Yet he also knows Thor didn’t purposefully harm the German, and that is why Captain America isn’t _completely_ upset.

Iron Man, however, doesn’t understand why Rogers is so concerned about Zemo’s well-being: Zemo hasn’t turned against the team yet and that’s what truly matters; his health is in the good hands of the super-soldier serum, so there is no reason for Rogers to worry:

“Maybe next time Zemo can just… watch out?” he suggests, his faceplate retreating to show his deadpan expression. “By the way… how did Zemo free himself??”

“Man with crowbar,” Natasha quotes, gesturing in accordance. That makes Tony narrow his eyes in suspicion:

“Oh, the Wrecking Crew attacking the bank was very convenient, then! Zemo gets free, plays hero…” Tony muses, and that makes Clint and Natasha nod.

Captain America, however, believes none of that:

“No, he acted on his own good will, he could have attacked us or escaped… but he stayed! He saved that man’s son!”

“The Captain is right...” Thor agrees.

All eyes then turn to Falcon, expecting his opinion. Sam, ever the optimistic, shrugs and forces a smile:

“At least nobody died…?”

* * *

 

Trotting down the stairs, Rogers manages to catch up with Zemo before he makes it to the living quarters. Zemo’s shoulders are sagged and his head is low, so Rogers hopes the anger is gone. He walks past Zemo and halts on the next step in front of him, blocking the way:

“I need to run some scans on you,” Rogers explains. Zemo tries to shove him aside and proceed his way, but Rogers is an unmovable object when he wants to and that makes the stairs too narrow for two men like them:

“I am alright! The serum-“ Zemo grunts, and since he can’t walk past Captain America, he can only enjoy the booby prize of standing one step above him:

“If you have something out of place, the serum will regenerate you just like that, and it’s no good,” Rogers cuts. “Come on, I just want to be sure you’re not hurt.”

 Zemo tilts his head, confused, and crosses his arms in front of his chest:

“Why? I am not an Avenger, Captain,” he points out, wondering how could Rogers fail to see the obvious and insist on helping him. Much to his dismay, Rogers merely smiles, one of his large and mysterious smiles that Zemo can’t interpret, and it’s extremely unsettling:

“Maybe not yet, but I’m still responsible for you like you were a teammate,” Captain America reaches out and rests a friendly hand on Zemo’s shoulder. “Come on, just more five flights of stairs and we’ll make it to our hospital.”

Zemo feels like bursting out laughing at Rogers’ vain hope of him becoming an Avenger. In fact, all of this ridiculous concern for his well-being is hilarious: Captain America has never hesitated in fighting him, throwing his shield at Zemo and project him against walls or the floor. But he refrains himself and just snorts, wondering how Captain America’s worries about him will affect the other Avengers – and how he can exploit it.

By no means Zemo will acknowledge this attention isn’t bad at all.

* * *

 

The scanner is the only piece of high-tech in the entire Avengers Tower that Rogers can operate without supervision. The machine consists of a reclined chair under a mobile scanner that works in a similar way to a conventional MRI scanner, only much faster and much more efficient. The machine stands alone in the middle of the medical exam room, while the touchscreen to operate it and read the results occupies half of a wall.

In five minutes Rogers concludes Zemo is perfectly fine, and they both return to the living quarters – this time, using the lift.

Thor is in the kitchen, holding a cup of hot chocolate between his hands, and he sees Rogers and Zemo leave the lift. He walks up to them, even if only Rogers seems to acknowledge his presence:

“Are you in good health, Zemo?” he asks quietly, and Zemo, who just wants to get to his bedroom, shower and sleep, stops in his tracks and casts Thor a confused look:

“Excuse me?”

“I asked if you are in good health. Because of the building that fell on you,” Thor hesitates, but places a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. “I am sorry for that. I shall never throw down a building on you again… as long as we remain in the same side.”

Zemo’s brain takes a moment to process the Norse god, prince of Asgard, is apologising to him, evil Baron Zemo, for having caused the building to collapse on his head. He looks at the large hand on his shoulder, then back to Thor’s face, and he feels an urge to back away and hide because… first Captain America, now Thor being… nice? To him? For no reason?

Zemo remembers when he first started to train swordfighting with his father: though the blades had been blunted, they still hurt, and beginner Helmut Zemo knew that better than anyone. His father had never apologised for the merciless blows, and it had only taught the younger Zemo to move faster and out of the way.

So why is Thor apologising, when Zemo should have been more careful? He is angry at himself, at his lack of luck – and maybe a little at how ironic life is, rewarding him like that for a good deed –  and overall feels embarrassed about his miserable and weakened state, but he is not angry at Thor.

He steps back abruptly, getting away from Thor’s hand:

“Do not be sorry, it was not even your fault,” he grunts, turns his back and strides away to his bedroom.

Thor looks at him go, slightly confused, then looks at Captain America, who had been watching silently:

“Did he mean it, Steve? I am afraid I do not understand the Baron…” He looks disappointedly at his steaming cup, and Captain America pats his shoulder amiably:

“He meant it,“ he assures Thor, even though he’s not sure about it: Zemo sounded more like he wanted to get done with it quickly.

One thing Rogers is sure, though: something in Thor’s kind gesture spooked Baron Zemo.

* * *

 

Captain America has trouble sleeping. This time, however, it’s not nightmares from the war or ghosts of his past keeping him awaken: it’s the Avengers and Zemo.

The German has made it clear that he tolerates Rogers, but Captain America needs him to tolerate the other heroes as well, just like he needs them to trust Zemo. For Rogers, Zemo’s finding of the lost pet and rescuing of the scared kid is enough proof that there’s goodness in him, and that he can be a great man if set in the right path.

Maybe it’s time for the Avengers and Baron Zemo to train together. This way, they’ll learn to trust each other, tolerate each other… and avoid incidents in the future, like what happened in the bank. Rogers spends the night thinking about it, tossing and turning in his bed, hoping to fall asleep while making training plans.

Sleep refuses to come, and more and more ideas and plans fill his mind, until he realises a very important thing that, in his excitement of making training plans, he hadn’t been paying attention to: before giving Zemo his weapons again… he needs to talk to him about his father.

Rogers has almost forgotten the younger Zemo might still hold a grudge against him for Heinrich Zemo’s death.

* * *

 

It’s about five in the morning when Rogers gives up trying to sleep and, after a brief workout in his bedroom and a quick shower, Captain America decides doing the laundry is a good way to start the day.

So, he collects his suit and the discarded clothes from a chair next to his wardrobe and makes his way downstairs, to the laundry room. Unsurprisingly, he finds nobody in his way: the Avengers like to sleep in after a busy mission, and Rogers can’t blame them for that.

The laundry room is very large, with lots of countertop space to fold clothes, plenty of cabinets and an automatic sewing machine – the saviour of everyone’s suits and socks. However, Tony Stark had been a bit clueless when it came to equip the laundry room, and instead of doing the sensible thing like… a washer and a drier per team member, and also ironing boards with irons, he went for only one washer and one drier. And completely ditched the ironing.

Which means that, to avoid queues and the resulting bickering, Rogers always does his laundry earlier than everyone else.

Recently, Tony has made up for his mistake by littering the laundry room with mini-fridges with snacks and a PlayStation, and it has been enough to appease the Hulk and Hawkeye.

When Rogers goes into the room with his suit and clothes piled neatly in his arms, he is surprised to find out someone has gotten there before him.

Baron Zemo is leaning against one of the counters, reading, waiting for the washer to finish. He isn’t wearing his suit, and Rogers has to admit it’s strange to see him without it; instead, he wears black jeans, a grey turtleneck and a black balaclava with only two eye-holes.

Zemo doesn’t look away from his book when he hears Rogers approach him and drop his laundry on the countertop:

“It’s early. Do you feel better from yesterday?” Rogers greets and mimics Zemo’s stance, crossing his arms and peeking at the book he’s reading. He isn’t surprised to see it’s a German book, but it surprises him that Zemo closes his book loudly and looks at him – though Captain America is convinced it’s more about politeness than niceness.

It’s the first time Rogers sees Zemo without his pink mask that, unlike his father’s, covers up his brows and eyes as well. So Rogers is slightly taken aback when a pair of violet eyes stares at him, cold as ice and hard as iron. But they’re also the most beautiful eyes he has even seen, and for a moment Rogers forgets to breathe.

Zemo frowns at him:

“I do,” he grunts in response, then tilts his head to the side. “It is early, indeed. Yet, you are here as well.”

Rogers is still mesmerized, and only when Zemo’s frown deepens does he remember to reply:

“I like to get the laundry done before the others,” Rogers shrugs. “I never told you about the laundry room.”

“No, you have not. But the Tower’s plant is on the Internet, so fear not: I have not been in unchanged clothes nor have I washed them by hand in the bathroom, like a peasant…” Zemo replies dryly, and Rogers grudgingly admits he deserved that comeback for the unnecessary statement about never telling Zemo about the laundry room:

“It’s just… you’re not usually sighted out of your bedroom…”

“You Avengers sleep like rocks…” Zemo squares his shoulders proudly, and Rogers offers him a lopsided smile:

“It’s good that you’re feeling more comfortable around us.”

“I would rather call it a basic need for clean clothes…”

Right, and Rogers’ smile dies a little. It frustrates him that his attempts at starting an innocent conversation are immediately annihilated by Zemo’s factual comebacks.

The washer beeps, indicating it has finished. Zemo leaves his book aside to change his laundry – amongst it his suit and mask – into the drier, and it’s Rogers turn to fill the washer with his clothes. With both machines working again, Rogers and Zemo return to their initial spots and remain silent for a couple of minutes.

Rogers figures that, since he can’t hold a simple conversation with Zemo, he has good chances at succeeding at a far more important talk about the previous Baron Zemo – and consequently, about the German training with the Avengers in a hopefully near future:

“Yesterday made me consider that I should give you back your weapons,” Rogers states quietly, and Zemo turns his head to look at him abruptly, eyes wide in surprise. “Thing is… are you still holding a grudge against me?”

Even without looking, Rogers feels it: the hardness and coldness Zemo stares at him with. He had felt it before, but without the mask, with that pair of violet eyes _right there_ , it’s a much stronger sensation. Almost like a physical aggression, and he looks at Zemo, notices he’s glowering at him… and that is his answer.

Zemo still holds a grudge against him, despite agreeing on rehabbing into goodness. For a moment, the thought that this was all Zemo’s plan to be free from the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility assaults him; but then again, if Zemo had wanted to do harm, he could have already. Instead, he had been behaving, had found a lost cat and had saved a child. So, maybe Zemo does want to change, but he might be reluctant about forgiving Rogers, no matter his politeness around him.

If this whole rehab is to work, Rogers realises they must fix that grudge there and then. And it’s the perfect opportunity: they’re alone, the others are asleep, and in the laundry room they won’t be heard – because there will be shouting, Rogers knows enough of Zemo to be sure of that.

“You know what I think of your father…” Rogers begins, not afraid of Zemo’s wrathful stare. “But you must understand… we were enemies. And… it was an accident. He wasn’t meant to die like that…” This time, Rogers looks away and frowns, remembering the last fight with Heinrich Zemo: how his clothes got stuck in the bomb that would be launched in seconds – and how he couldn’t free himself because his clothes were glued to him because of a previous incident (involving Rogers as well) and Adhesive X; how Bucky managed to alter the bomb’s trajectory, but how it still took off with Heinrich Zemo:

“Spare me your little show! You have not the slightest bit of remorse!” Zemo growls at the top of his lungs, crossing his arms and balling his hands into fists. An accident! Rogers calls it «an accident»! Zemo calls it murder, because the bomb could have been stopped from taking off – he knew it because he had seen his father’s notes about it, and any intelligent and willing creature would have found a way to stop the launching.

Rogers looks back at him:

“I hadn’t,” He purses his lips. “But now I have, and I wish things had been different…”

Zemo shakes his head vehemently and steps away from Rogers, like he has been slapped. Rogers is lying: he has no consideration for the former Baron Zemo, why is he trying to convince the current one of the contrary?

“And you know why?” Rogers proceeds, but opts for not approaching Zemo. “Because of _you_. Because of what you could have become, if only things had been different. If only you hadn’t hated me for your father’s death.”

“Nonsense!” Zemo roars. “Had you simply put my father in jail, he would still go to martial court, would be sentenced to hang! You would still be my enemy!”

“He wouldn’t have died by my hands!” Rogers steps away from the counter, gesticulating. “I know you loved him-“

“I have warned you once to never talk about that!!” With one stride, Zemo is face to face with Rogers, and he jams a finger on Rogers’ chest.

Captain America, however, is determined to settle the subject, and continues:

“I know you _loved_ him, and I understand you want to avenge him,” He pauses, sucks in his lips to hold back from saying that Heinrich Zemo doesn’t deserve all this devotion, doesn’t deserve to have such a claim in Helmut’s life. Rogers hopes Helmut will see it one day, take what it takes. He sighs. “But you can do so much better…!! You _hypnotised me_ to lead you to your father’s secret lab! You turned the Masters of Evil into a functional and efficient group! You created the Thunderbolts! You built a machine with technology not even _Tony Stark_ can understand at all!!”

Hopefully for Rogers, Tony shall never know he has just said that…

Zemo narrows his eyes, and where once was simply a threatening index finger on Rogers’ chest, there’s a closed fist. Zemo can hit Rogers if he wants, but still, Captain America proceeds, convinced that the German’s reluctance in actually hitting him can only mean he’s getting through to Zemo:

“You can do so much better… If only you let your father go, if only you stop living in the past…” Rogers sighs, sadly. “I know what it’s like, ok? To cling to memories, to what it used to be…” Carefully, he rests both hands on Zemo’s tense shoulders. “I know I’m asking a lot… but please, forgive me, drop this grudge, let me help you. Let me make a greater man out of you…”

Zemo steps back, shrugging off Rogers’ hands. He’s furious and all he wants is to attack Rogers. How dare he speak to him like that… like he cares? How dare he talk so openly about Heinrich Zemo’s death? How dare he try to inspire the younger Zemo, who knows no other inspiration besides his father? How dare he _bargain_ Helmut Zemo’s life?

The German snarls and turns his back at Rogers, stomping around furiously and clutching to his head. He had thought he could fool Captain America into trusting him by simply being quiet and doing the occasional good deed, but now Rogers is asking a price too high.

Captain America asks for forgiveness, and in return would fully trust Zemo.

Zemo paces back and forth nervously, like a caged beast. Caged and wounded, and he’s about to lose control and jump at Rogers’ throat. The washer and drier beep, but there are more important things at stake than laundry.

Then he comes to a halt, takes in a deep breath and crosses his arms tightly in front of his chest.

Captain America is a fool, meaning every word he says. Yet he has no way of telling if Zemo, too, means what he says… Zemo realises Rogers is doing all the hard work for him: Rogers has taken him in, has taken responsibility for him, has defied his team for him… and is now paving the way for Zemo’s triumphant glory, and all he wants are… empty words!

He glances over his shoulder, to Rogers, who looks expectantly at him with a slight frown. Zemo clenches his jaw, considering his options, mustering the courage to say the words – that, even meaningless, still require a lot from him.

Rogers sees how Zemo is struggling, and he takes a tentative step forwards:

“Helmut…” he calls softly, and stretches a hand towards Zemo. “Let it go and start anew. Make your own life.”

 _How hypocrite of you, telling me to forget my father and to follow your lead!_ , Zemo thinks, and casts one last glower at Rogers.

But he cannot let this chance slip through his fingers, can he? Captain America has pretty much opened the door to the destruction of the Avengers… and his own. He's making himself a vulnerable target.

And all it takes are empty words, and Zemo will have full control of Rogers again… and won’t even have to hypnotise him.

Summoning patience for what will come, Zemo’s shoulders sag and he lowers his head. He sighs, looks up at Rogers again, and finally takes his hand.

They shake hands, vigorously, and Zemo does his best not to smash Rogers’ hand in his:

“I… I forgive you…” Zemo grunts, and even meaningless the words taste foul in his mouth.

It’s all it takes to make Rogers smile widely and kindly:

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me!” he whispers, feeling proud and relieved and overall happy. Yet, it somehow hurts Zemo, who hears Rogers’ words with the voice of his father.

* * *

 

As expected, the Avengers aren’t happy when Rogers tells them Zemo is going to be part of the trainings – and armed. Their argument is music for Zemo’s ears, and he can only congratulate himself for having the patience to stick around Captain America.

Sadly for Zemo, Rogers compromises with his friends on a few things: for the time being, Zemo isn’t going to fight alongside with them – meaning he will still stay in the jet – and his weapons are to be kept in Captain America’s bedroom – so whenever Zemo wants to train with the weapons, he has to ask Rogers.

For the following weeks, Baron Zemo remains as the resident cryptid, only seen in rare occasions, like when Rogers summons him from the bedroom to train with the team, or when he goes to prepare himself a meal (that he eats in his bedroom, and for now Rogers decides for not pushing him into further socialization). The rest of the Avengers still aren’t convinced about his good intentions, but they try their best to hide it from Rogers: their friend is extremely happy, and they can’t bring themselves to ruin his happiness.

So, the Avengers try to make the best of the situation, which translates into making fun of Zemo: it started when Tony was talking to Rogers and Zemo showed up to ask for his sword – since then, when Tony wants to talk to Rogers, and especially when Zemo is nearby, Tony calls for “Steven!” in an exaggerated commanding voice with a German accent; the next shenanigan was responsibility of Hawkeye, who walked on Zemo preparing his breakfast and, in a fit of laughter, asked the German “Is it der, die or das Nutella?”; Thor shouted “Stop! It is sword-time!” when he and Natasha went to the gym and found Zemo fighting an invisible opponent (sadly for Thor, it was considered cringy); even F.R.I.D.A.Y. messed up with Zemo sometimes, namely by turning off the hot water when he’s in the shower, or turning off the light when he’s reading at night, and describing Zemo’s reaction to the gathered Avengers in the living room.

Rogers is torn between laughing with his friends and scolding them for repeatedly trying Zemo’s patience. They can all live in the Tower without the constant bickering. He often tells the German the others are finally accepting him, which is partially true, and for that Zemo shouldn’t get angry.

Zemo tries his best to be patient, repeating over and over to himself that all this suffering and humiliation will be worth when he finally has his revenge. And it’s only that, the thought of avenging his father, proving he's a worthy son and continuing his legacy, that takes him through the mockery.

* * *

 

Rogers is doodling in his smaller sketchbook when Zemo materializes at the door of his bedroom, legs slightly apart and arms behind his back:

“Steven!” he calls. “I wish to train with my sword.”

Busy with his doodle, Rogers merely points his pencil at the sword, leaning against the chair where he leaves his clothes.

Zemo is confused, and for a moment hesitates to step in Rogers’ bedroom. He eventually does so, looking everywhere and expecting to be knocked over by something – who knows, a shield? – but seems this is not a trap, that Rogers is actually giving him permission to fetch his sword. Walking to his sword, the German notices Rogers doodling, sitting cross-legged on a couch opposite to the bed.

It appears that Captain America can do more than just ultimate Frisbee and parenting unfortunate villains, and Zemo finds the fact curious – never in his whole life has he thought Captain America could do something else besides… being Captain America. Something artsy, by the looks of it: even looking at the doodle upside-down, Zemo understands it’s a simplistic depiction of a bike, and he must admit Rogers has talent if he has simplified something like a bike: if it were Zemo, he would only manage to make a technical drawing, with the aid of a ruler, a compass, graph paper and definitely a reference to look at.

Zemo grabs his sword and leaves, unaware that his interruption has disturbed Rogers’ artistic mood. Plus, shortly after, a massive argument starts in the kitchen, among the Hulk, Thor and Hawkeye, and they yell loud enough that Rogers, in his bedroom, can hear them – something about missing peanut butter and Pop-Tarts.

Bored, Captain America tosses his doodle sketchbook to the bed and leaves the bedroom, locking the door behind him:

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., where are the others?” he asks, not even considering walking up to the three men in the kitchen and try to get them to do something else besides fighting over food:

“Mr. Stark is at a meeting about the new line of Avengers merchandise. Samuel has just left to meet his mother. Agent Romanoff is sleeping,” the AI informs.

Rogers’ shoulders sag, disappointedly: right when he was feeling like trying his luck at gaming…

Then he remembers someone else is doing something fun: Zemo is training. Yes, joining Zemo in the gym sounds like a good idea: then later in the evening, when Tony is free from the meeting, Rogers can attempt to beat him in one of those car racing games.

Captain America makes his way to the gym, where Zemo is sword-fighting an invisible enemy, apparently unaware of Rogers’ arrival. He moves around with dizzying speed and slashes and pierces the air with precision, using either one or two hands to hold his sword.

Rogers watches him for a moment, and realises he has already tried Tony’s shooting gauntlets, Hawkeye’s bow and arrow and even Mjolnir… but he has never tried sword-fighting. It looks like fun and maybe he’ll get Zemo to relax a bit around him:

“Would you teach me?” Rogers asks.

Zemo freezes in the spot and turns his masked head to glance at Rogers. For a moment, he thinks Captain America is mocking him… yet Rogers is smiling, that smile Zemo can’t interpret, and he looks genuinely interested while at the same time standing at a rather shy distance from Zemo.

Zemo looks down at his sword: it had belonged to his father, it would an offense too big to let _Captain America_ wield it. Yet it would be just for show, wouldn’t it? To stay in Rogers’ good side…

“Come closer,” Zemo finally instructs, and Rogers approaches him, always smiling. Zemo holds his sword horizontally with both hands and, after a little hesitation, allows Rogers to pick it up.

Unaccustomed, Rogers finds the sword a bit heavy, though it feels perfectly balanced. Holding it with a hand, he pokes at the air, perfectly aware he doesn’t even have a third of Zemo’s grace:

“What are you doing, fool…?” Zemo utters in disbelief, and his dismay and confusion sound hilarious to Rogers:

“It’s like those athletes in the Olympics!” Rogers explains, and it earns him a pained groan from Zemo, who facepalms:

“They have a _foil_!! Look at the blade and hilt, it has nothing to do with a foil!!” Zemo sighs and his arms fall beside his body, like correcting Rogers has left him exhausted. “You are holding an _Anderthalbhänder_ … or a bastard sword, if you want. You can use it with either one hand or both hands…”

Rogers mouths a silent ‘oh’ and holds the hilt with both hands. It doesn’t feel so heavy, but when he tries to slash the air, he twists his arms and torso in an awkward position:

“How about knowing the weapon, first?” Zemo grumbles, and he summons patience to explain the basics. Rogers raises an eyebrow:

“It’s a sword, Helmut… it has a hilt and a blade: you hold the hilt and use the blade to cut.”

“You hold the grip, that together with the pommel and cross-guard make the hilt,” Zemo frowns: since he was asked to teach, then he’ll make a proper work! “And the blade is made of two parts: the strong, that has an edge made for cutting, and the weak, that has a point for piercing. In the blade there are also the central ridge and the fuller, that are used to lighten the blade. Blade that you balance with the pommel.”

Rogers’ smile just widens with Zemo’s passionate explanation and he looks at the sword again. It looks so simple, and yet Zemo makes it sound much more complex. And captivating:

“Every part of the sword is a weapon in itself,” Zemo proceeds. Standing beside Rogers, he grudgingly covers Rogers’ hands holding the grip with his. “Loosen your fingers, it’s all about the wrists… There… Now, like this, you can break a skull with the pommel… Like this, you can pierce an eye with the cross-guard…  Like this, you thrust with the point… And like this, you cut with the edge.”

Rogers lets Zemo take the lead, guide him through the movements. His arms and torso don’t twist awkwardly anymore and the sword seems to weight less. He feels Zemo’s knee nudge his leg, indicating him to move his leg forwards, and Rogers does so while the German accompanies him:

“You take a step with each strike. Small steps while a beginner, then larger or smaller steps while more experienced, and thus able to better judge your opponent and perform a faster footwork.”

Zemo has fond memories of training sword-fighting with his father, no matter how hurt he ended. His father had been a very strict instructor, especially during the war, and because of that Zemo is surprised with his gentleness towards Captain America, with how natural it feels to stand this close and hold his hands to guide him through his first attacks. Especially taking in consideration it’s the first time Zemo instructs someone in sword-fighting.  

He steps away abruptly, but Rogers is too excited cutting through the air to notice. Only when he’s halfway to the other end of the gym, does he notice that Zemo is no longer standing with him, and he stops and turns around to face the German, standing rigidly with his arms crossed in front of his chest:

“I’ll ask Tony to make me a training sword, I’d like to learn more,” Rogers decides and walks back to Zemo, holding the sword horizontally with both hands to give it back to him. “What is your sword made of?”

“Adamantium,” He grins as Rogers widens his eyes in surprise. “My father had it made to replicate his father’s sword, that was made of steel.”

“I remember seeing Heinrich Zemo with a sword… but not the last time,” Rogers tells and watches as Zemo takes hold of his sword again, with visible adoration for the object:

“Swords pass down from father to son. On the eighteenth birthday. He had already given his sword to me when…” Zemo frowns, and for a moment he blames it all on Rogers and wants to be angry again.

Yet today his good mood takes the best: the fact that _Captain America_ _looks up at him_ for something is eerily satisfactory and soothes his pride, that has been constantly battered down by the other Avengers' mockery. Rogers is still his enemy, but Zemo supposes he can bask in Rogers’ admiration for his skills without compromising his brilliant plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Any opinions?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your support! :)

Tony doesn’t like when Zemo trains with the Avengers: Zemo, like the arrogant two-bit nobleman he is, tries to boss around together with Captain America and Iron Man, pointing out mistakes and giving hunches about tactics and strategy. What infuriates Tony the most is that Rogers gives Zemo an importance he doesn’t have, by listening to him and discussing the subject:

“I listen to all of you, why shouldn’t I listen to him as well??” Rogers eventually asks, when the training is over and Tony is trying his best to silence Zemo:

“Because he’s a villain?” Clint suggests with a shrug, and the German points at him with his sword:

“And you are lazy and while everyone is working, you take your sweet time to eat candy,” he accuses, even though all the Avengers know it because Hawkeye likes so show off he can still hit the target while snacking:

“I think it’s… advantageous… to have Zemo’s feedback,” Natasha shares, and Tony casts her an indignant look. “He’s a stranger, he’s more likely to see things we don’t because we’ve been working together for a while…”

Sam and Thor nod in agreement and Rogers smiles victoriously. The Hulk remains neutral as always, hoping for the right moment to Smash. With a humpf, Zemo sheathes his sword:

“That doesn’t mean you get to boss around!” Iron Man proceeds, pointing his thumb at himself and then at Rogers. “That’s _our_ job!”

“You are a very selfish man, Stark…” Zemo retorts and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Rogers, who already knows Zemo well enough to tell the German is going to tease Iron Man about a mistake he spotted, intervenes before things get out of hand:

“Enough, training’s over,” he proclaims and pulls down his mask.

The Avengers and Zemo leave the enclosed training room, and while everyone runs to their bedrooms to shower and relax, Zemo simply hands over his sword and pistols to Captain America and goes to lift some weights. Rogers knows why he does it: with the super-soldier serum, Zemo’s stamina is extremely high and the team’s training isn’t enough to wear him off, leaving him itching for more action… just like it does to Rogers.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling of restlessness, but Captain America has learned to control it for the sake of the team and his own mental health – Zemo, however, has had the serum for a much shorter period of time than Rogers, and this is one of the things he might not know yet.

For a moment, the thought of sparring alone with Zemo crosses Rogers’ mind. It would be fun, because they are evenly matched, and it would be nice to have someone who can keep up with him and fight for hours without holding back in fear of hurting his sparring companion. On the other hand, sparring with Zemo would be a disaster waiting to happen – the two of them are still tiptoeing around each other, and the chances of the German snapping and _actually_ fighting Rogers are too high.

No fancy math and equations are needed to explain that.

It’s safer if Rogers waits longer, waits for Zemo to loosen up a bit. Maybe after the German fights alongside the Avengers in real missions… While that doesn’t happen, it’s just a matter of days until Rogers’ training sword is ready, and then he and Zemo can do something similar to sparring, but in a more controlled environment.

* * *

 

By now Zemo knows better than trying to have a relaxing shower: in fear of having the hot water cut and replaced by cold water by F.R.I.D.A.Y., Zemo showers in record time, lathering and rinsing in stressful speed.

Non-relaxing showers leave him grumpy, and after dressing up again he leaves his room to get himself chocolate to appease his mood. He expects to find the Avengers gathered in the living room, but he finds only Thor – and the way the Norse god is trying so hard to look nonchalant immediately raises suspicion:

“Where is Captain America and the others?” Zemo asks, and though he looks at Thor he makes a beeline to the pantry. Thor, sitting very straight on the couch, still tries his best:

“They are… minding their businesses,” he replies, watching as Zemo gets a chocolate bar from his stash in the pantry:

“I see… Why didn’t they drag me along this time?” The German tilts his head to the side. “And why did they leave you to baby-sit me?”

“A short straw chose me to guard the Tower…” Thor grudgingly shares, and that makes Zemo snort in amusement. “As for the mission, the Captain knew you were bathing, he didn’t want to disturb you.”

“How thoughtful…” Zemo comments absentmindedly, because it is. Even though he takes less than five minutes. He presumes he has just missed the Avengers, and that something must have come up shortly after he finished lifting weights and went back to his bedroom – and that there had certainly been an argument about him staying behind. He leans on the kitchen isle, tossing up and catching the chocolate bar with a gloved hand. “You may go and join them, my plan for the evening is eating chocolate and read.”

“You cannot dwell alone in the Tower,” Thor shakes his head. The last time Zemo had unrestricted access to the tower hadn’t been nice, and none of the Avengers want it to happen again. Thor must confess he’s upset about having to keep an eye on Zemo, but still, he follows Rogers advice and tries to ease the German a bit. “Do you wish to indulge in the activity of gaming?”

Zemo almost drops the chocolate bar, because the last thing he expected was to be invited by an Asgardian to play in the PlayStation. Zemo’s first thought is declining the invitation, go back to his room and savour his chocolate while reading.

On the other hand, beating Thor in a game would certainly make up for his inability to beat him in real life. So the German nods, slowly, and rips the wrapper of his chocolate bar:

“Give me a minute,” And he turns his back at Thor and lifts his mask just enough to expose his mouth to eat.

Thor is puzzled, he expected Zemo to decline. Maybe the German isn’t so bad, like Rogers is always saying. Now grinning, Thor switches on the PlayStation and gathers all the interesting games, already plotting an evil plan: Zemo and Rogers must be the same age… and since Rogers is so bad at gaming, it’s probably an old people’s thing, which automatically makes Zemo a nullity at gaming as well. It makes sense for the Norse god, and he’s already counting on an easy victory (he never stands a chance against the Hulk, or Hawkeye, or Iron Man, or Falcon… or even Black Widow!)

Zemo, with the sweet taste of chocolate in his mouth and an easy victory in mind, joins Thor on the couch, they choose a multiplayer combat game and take their controllers. The game is loading.

And that is when a small missile crashes against the tower, shattering the full-length windows that make up an entire wall of the living room. Shards of glass rain down on Thor and Zemo, who are projected backwards, together with the couch, from the impact of the explosion.

The next thing they now, Doctor Doom is coming in through the broken window/wall, floating on a small jet platform and followed by a small hoard of Doombots.

Thor loses no time in summoning Mjolnir. As for Zemo, cursing in German in a rather unpolite way, he has only time to run to the kitchen, grab a kitchen knife and hope the blade resists the upcoming fight.

Doctor Doom recognizes Zemo… and he’s slightly confused to see one of Hydra’s top scientists – and therefore, an ally of the Red Skull – in the Avengers Tower, with the intention of attacking _him_ instead of the local Avenger. So he commands his Doombots to attack Thor, and while the Asgardian is busy, he stops Zemo from trying to help him by hitting him with an energy blast that has him flying against the kitchen cabinets.

The impact of Zemo’s back against the cabinets results in destroyed cabinets and pieces of wood and ware raining on him when he falls flat on the floor. Doctor Doom hovers graciously towards him in his jet platform, and rests his hands on his hips:

“Baron Zemo! I did not expect to find you here!” he exclaims, and when Zemo pushes himself up, gives him an electric shock that makes him grunt and kneel. “What is your business at the Avengers Tower?”

Doctor Doom’s answer is Captain America’s shield hitting him hard on the back of his head and knocking him off his jet platform.

* * *

 

The Doombots in Central Park weren’t enough distraction to the Avengers, who didn’t take long to return to the tower and save both Thor and Zemo. Seems Doctor Doom was after the futuristic tech of Kang the Conqueror that Iron Man has stored in his lab. Now the bots are destroyed and Doctor Doom is restrained and ready to be picked up by S.H.I.E.L.D.

In the meantime, Thor is telling everyone he and Zemo were just about to enjoy a friendly session of gaming when they were rudely interrupted. Black Widow doubts Zemo was up for a «friendly» game; Clint and Sam doubt Zemo – who must be as old as Captain America, and therefore, as inept as him when it comes to the PlayStation – could play at all; Tony doubts Zemo’s intention was playing, and that he wanted to hack into the tower’s security system again; the Hulk is very curious about Zemo’s PlayStation abilities, and the prospect of virtual smashing to make up for the lack of real life smashing is cheering; Rogers is over the moon about the game that almost happened, because it only shows how Zemo is a good man willing to change his ways.

Zemo, however, just wants to be sure he won’t have to clean up the mess in the living room – he won’t, there are bots to rebuild the tower and clean up after a battle - and to get rid of his suit, covered in tiny glass shards. His good mood is gone and so is his patience, and when Rogers comes up to him to congratulate him for wanting to play a game with Thor, all Zemo can do is growl at him that he wants his weapons back. Then he stomps away and locks himself in his bedroom.

There, he was about to do another good thing! He was about to entertain that big Asgardian manchild, and what was his reward? Getting glass shards all over him and smashing a cabinet with his back! Zemo can only hope Doctor Doom doesn’t share with other villains his whereabouts… or his plan might be compromised if other villains keep showing up to either try to join him or do the job for him.

He’s in desperate need of a relaxing bath… but he’ll have none, because the tower’s AI won’t let him enjoy the benefits of a good spray of hot water…

* * *

 

The next day, when Zemo makes his way into the kitchen to make breakfast for himself, he finds everything fixed, like nothing happened. Much to his dismay, Thor is sitting on the couch again, this time truly relaxed, with a large cereal bowl in hand:

“Ah, Baron! We shall go back to our game!” Thor salutes enthusiastically, waving with his spoon.

Zemo isn’t in the mood. He just wants to make some porridge, go back to his room and read, take a break from all the good deeds that only bring him misery.

But he thinks of a smiling Captain America, smiling with both lips and eyes, looking at him proudly when Thor told him about the game that almost was. The memory shakes Zemo’s decision, and he hesitates, spares a thought at how playing a game with Thor would benefit his situation.

By no means he wants to acknowledge he appreciates the pride he’s looked at by Rogers, so different from the scornful looks he got from his father.

Zemo sighs, defeated, and shrugs:

“Let me eat, first…” he grunts at Thor.

Later, when Iron Man drags his feet into the kitchen in desperate need of a coffee, he thinks he’s still asleep: _Thor_ and _Baron Zemo_ are sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch in front of the PlayStation, playing a fighting game… and Zemo is winning:

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., assemble the guys… I just want to be sure I’m awaken…” Tony yawns and forgets his need for a coffee. In few seconds the rest of the team is stumbling from their bedrooms and into the living room, in pajamas or bathrobes, many of them still half-asleep. They are met with the shocking sight of Thor and Zemo battling in a video game, and after a moment of shock the Hulk breaks the silence with wise words:

“Sock-Face is smashing Goldilocks!”

Wide awake, the Avengers rush to the back of the couch to cheer for Thor. Captain America, however, decides to remain neutral, enjoying only the sight of Baron Zemo working for his place in the world of super-heroes and goodness. It fills him with pride and warms his heart, and maybe he’ll be a little smug about this with the rest of the team – because, you see, Rogers has been right this whole time and Baron Zemo is simply a misguided man.

However, when it comes to video games, Zemo sure knows what he’s doing: with the viciousness of an experimented teenage gamer, the German moves his thumbs on the controller with expert speed and commands his digital minion with efficiency. Thor has never stood a chance, but he needs ten rounds to understand that.

Every round won by Zemo has the Avengers screeching in agony and shouting instructions at Thor. Clint is taking the offense personally, and after Thor’s last humiliating defeat, he immediately takes his friend’s place.

To the Avengers’ gaping horror… Hawkeye, one of their best gamers, meets a sad end at the hands of Zemo’s in-game character… And after two frustrating rounds of defeat, Hawkeye blames it all on the breakfast he hasn’t eaten yet.

Zemo is enjoying himself more than he should, but he’s polite to put down his controller and call it a successful morning:

“I can recommend you some gaming YouTubers, if you want…” Zemo tells Thor, grinning widely under his mask and earning a collective shocked gasp from the Avengers, who had never thought Baron Zemo’s knowledge of technology went beyond the evil uses of it.

Zemo leaves the living room triumphant, having defeated two Avengers in a game feeling almost as good as defeating them in real life. His good mood is restored, and he plans on spending the rest of the morning in the gym, lifting weights.

He’s halfway through the bedrooms corridor that leads to the gym when Captain America materializes beside him, and he stops to look at Rogers. Blond hair disheveled, some old t-shirt and sweatpants make him look everything but the dignified Captain America. And there’s something nice about it, a vulnerableness that makes him more approachable… easier to destroy. As always, Rogers is smiling, a glint of indescribable happiness in his blue eyes:

“Nobody, not even the world’s best superspies, knew you were a gamer,” he tells, highly amused.

The statement is the kind of trifle Zemo has no patience for, yet it somehow makes him laugh. His laughter is honest and carefree, not fitting for a super-villain. Just like his eyes, his laughter takes Rogers’ breath away for a moment, and Captain America feels like he’s melting a little bit, and how come that he and Zemo aren’t friends? How come a man with such beautiful eyes and laughter and a very well hidden kind heart is the son of one of the biggest Hydra bastards in History?

Zemo looks around, just to make sure nobody is there with them. He then tilts his head, decides to share a secret with Rogers:

“I have teenage cousins. Lots of them. They are all avid gamers, and I learned from them.”

Captain America just smiles like an idiot, because there hasn’t been an awkward chit-chat between him and Zemo to get the German to share this. He just nods, speechless, and watches as Zemo proceeds his way into the gym.

A couple of days later and Rogers’ training sword is ready, and he starts his sword fighting lessons with Zemo – who does not plan to teach him much, just a few basic things… just to amuse himself watching Captain America fumble with a sword.

* * *

 

Zemo’s next adventure with the Avengers is a trip to the Savage Land, after F.R.I.D.A.Y. informing the heroes about odd electro-magnetic signs coming from the island. Zemo manages to stand up for the whole flight, holding on the back of Thor’s seat for balance while the Norse god plans another gaming session that he clearly intends to win, now that he has been watching the YouTubers recommended by Zemo.

But once they land, Zemo is once more left behind, weaponless and glued to the floor. Yet progress has been made: this time, the German isn’t shackled… though that didn’t stop him from asking Rogers when was he getting his leash, just for the sake of annoying Captain America.

The Avengers leave the jet (and Zemo) in a sun-bathed clearing, away from the major dinosaur colonies spread throughout the island. At first everything is calm, and Zemo distracts himself by watching the primordial forest around the jet through the windscreen. It’s peaceful – he has always liked the contact with nature, and for a moment remembers happy days of his childhood, when he and his parents went out for a long rides on horseback through their estate.

A screech startles him, and much to Zemo’s dismay a couple of velociraptors is staring at him through the windscreen. Compared to the man-sized killer lizards from Jurassic Park, these turkey-sized feathered lizards look a lot less scarier. Zemo has never been interested in paleoethology, but he remembers reading some scientific article stating that velociraptors were smart, but not in the same level of cats and dogs – again, not so scary like Jurassic Park.

Taking comfort in logic and science, Zemo relaxes and stares back at the velociraptors at the other side of the windscreen. What can a couple of tiny dinosaurs do against the Aven-Jet?

Seemingly reading Zemo’s mind, the velociraptors start hitting their heads on the windscreen and clawing at it. The German must confess their claws are rather impressive… but the dinosaurs aren’t that strong. Or clever. Zemo chuckles, watching them trying to break the windscreen with headbutts.

Then, with another screech, they run away.

Zemo doesn’t have time to wonder what made the velociraptors give up: a T-Rex comes roaring from the trees across the clearing, running towards the jet. And now Zemo has a valid reason to worry. He struggles frantically, trying to release himself from his cocoon of glue – seriously, if the Avengers plan to leave him in the jet every mission, they really need to stop leaving him like this!!

The T-Rex gives the jet a headbutt, and it’s enough to push it a few meters and crack the windscreen. The jolt of the impact, however, helps Zemo to break free, and he runs to the door to open it: he’s certainly safer on the top a tree than inside the jet!

The door opens and he darts off, straight to the nearest tree. The T-Rex roars, apparently oblivious that the jet is empty, and continues to headbutt it and bite it. Still, Zemo climbs up the tree as quickly as possible, and he settles on a branch that is hopefully both high and leafy enough to keep him safe from the T-Rex.

When the Aven-Jet’s front and roof are dented and the windscreen dangerously cracked, the T-Rex finally leaves, disappearing among the trees opposite to Zemo’s hiding place.

The German waits, and for a moment the thought of escaping the Avengers crosses his mind. But in the Savage Land that would be pointless: how would he return to civilization, by building a boat and sailing away? No, he better stay put, remain with the super-heroes. In the meantime, out of nowhere dark clouds gather on the sky, covering up the sun, and it starts to rain. A lot. Lightening and everything, and Zemo frowns suspiciously, wondering if Thor is responsible for the sudden storm.

Not wanting to get soaked, he climbs down the tree and intends to take refuge inside the jet again.

The velociraptors return and stop between Zemo and the jet, looking at him curiously. The German sighs, annoyed, and if these tiny dinosaurs don’t move away, he’ll kick them:

“Shoo!” he commands, gesturing with his hands. But the velociraptors merely blink their eyes, tilt their heads and shake the rain drops off their tails. They won’t move, and Zemo, who does not want to stand in the rain, walks past them, irritated. “Stupid, primitive chickens…”

A screech, and a velociraptor jumps at his back, and Zemo screams in pain when the sharp claws on the dinosaur’s feet pierce deep into his back muscles. But the tiny dinosaur also has claws in its hands, and it tries to slash at the back of Zemo’s head and shoulders. The other velociraptor goes berserk, probably by smelling blood, and screeches at the top of its lungs and starts to run in circles around Zemo and trying to bite his legs.

Cursing and grunting, the German does a somersault, trapping the velociraptor between his back and the ground for a moment. It’s enough to disconcert the dinosaur, but when it untangles its feet claws from Zemo’s back, it only harms him further. The other velociraptor almost bites Zemo’s calf when he’s standing from the somersault, but the German is faster, jumping to his feet and running away into the safety of the jet.

The velociraptors run after him, and they almost manage to get in – fortunately, the door closes, leaving them screeching indignantly outside. More velociraptors appear from among the trees, having detected the scent of blood, and soon they lay siege on the jet. One of the dinosaurs goes back to headbutting the windscreen, and now that it’s so heavily cracked, Zemo fears it might shatter if the velociraptors insist too much.

When Zemo is about to open the door again and make a daring escape to the tree he had climbed to, the Avengers return and Iron Man wipes off the velociraptors with energy blasts.

Hawkeye is the first to get in the jet… and notice an accusatory trail of blood drops leading to Zemo:

“Ew, gross…” he complains with a grimace. Out of spite, Zemo turns his back at Hawkeye and flexes his back muscles. The serum is already healing him, but still the wounds are deep and bleed. “Gross!!”

Captain America comes in after Hawkeye, and he immediately approaches Zemo to take a good look on his back:

“My god, what happened to you??” He’s about to put a friendly hand on Zemo’s shoulder, when the German turns to face him and crosses his arms firmly in front of his chest:

“Cretacean chickens…” Zemo grunts. The other Avengers come in, close the door and start taking their seats, avoiding carefully the bloody trail:

“Puny dinosaurs, not so hard to fight...” the Hulk comments. Black Widow is looking around, to the dented jet and to the cracked windscreen:

“Raptors couldn’t have done that…” she observes, and can’t help but cast a suspicious look at Zemo:

“No, it was a T-Rex, and that was why I ran up a tree. But then it started to rain, and the velociraptors returned,” Zemo explains angrily, then points with his thumb at his wounded back. “And _this_ happened!”

“Oh well, bad luck…” Iron Man states nonchalantly.

The German is about to continue the argument, but Rogers rests both hands on his shoulders and guides him to a separate compartment in the jet, a small infirmary. The Aven-Jet takes off, smoothly, and Zemo is able to stand as dignified as he can while Rogers guides him to a small bench in the middle of the infirmary:

“I’ll bandage you up, no need for you to bleed all over the place while the serum acts,” Unnecessarily, Captain America helps him to sit down; Zemo, however, puts his pride aside and doesn’t push Rogers away, allowing himself to enjoy a little Rogers’ concern for his well-being. After so many years of having to look after himself, Zemo must admit it feels… nice, to have someone willing to help him.

For the sake of privacy, Rogers opts to cover Zemo’s suit with the bandages as well. The German is thankful for that, and he keeps his back straight and arms raised while Rogers wraps his torso and back with bandages.

“You need to come up with a better solution than gluing me to the spot, if you plan to leave me behind in the jet, Steven,” Zemo says quietly when Rogers finishes tending to him. “First an oversized burglar and now dinosaurs…”

“At least you weren’t shackled…” Rogers replies with a lopsided grin, but Zemo is right. The Avengers can’t always abandon Zemo to his luck when they go in mission.

Captain America sighs, foreseeing the enormous argument it will cause when he tries to convince the team to allow Zemo to tag along with them, instead of being left in the jet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always treasured!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, thank you guys for all the support! It has been a while since I felt this motivated to write, and I had forgotten how good it feels.  
> Ok, about this chapter - it features Unmasked Helmut Zemo and I took some liberties regarding his face: I kinda ignored the 5 seconds in AA when his face is exposed because a) extremely generic features and b) didn't quite correspond to his description in the AA wiki; I also decided to ignore the Adhesive X accident from the comics, since it's not the reason why he doesn't take off his mask in AA.
> 
> (also the saga of multi notes continues and I'm still trying to figure out why)

With his face hidden behind a book, Baron Zemo is both safe from watching the Avengers’ lack of etiquette at dinner and from prying eyes, and he can have his mask rolled up his mouth and eat peacefully. The tricky part is focusing on what he’s reading: the Avengers are loud and the TV is on. The scent of heavily spiced Mexican food fills the air, and Zemo just wants to finish his humble scrambled eggs with rice before the spices make effect – especially on the Hulk…

Tonight, Zemo has decided to make the Avengers company just for the sake of showing Rogers he’s a good, sociable man. By no means Zemo will come to terms with the fact that he feels lonely, locked in his bedroom and surrounded by his family’s photo-albums, and that the noisy Avengers give him, at least, a false sense of… not being completely on his own.

His mobile rings, startling him slightly. Even so, Zemo knows exactly who it is, and what do they want. He puts down his fork, arranges his mask, closes his book and picks up his mobile from the only remaining pouch on his belt. He’s not surprised to find all the Avengers looking at him in surprise – except for the Hulk, who looks hopeful, almost like he’s expecting Zemo to command an attack to the tower and give him a reason to Smash:

“Hallo, Spargeltarzan! Wie geht’s dir?” Zemo salutes calmly, and the fact that he’s speaking in German makes Iron Man, Black Widow and Hawkeye narrow their eyes in suspicion; Thor and Sam seem confused; Captain America is frowning, certainly attempting to use his basic German to understand what Zemo is saying; the Hulk is still hopeful about Zemo dooming himself.

Zemo considers going to talk to a more private place, like his bedroom, but it would only raise unnecessary suspicion. Besides, he’s speaking in his mother-tongue – and no matter how much of a genius Tony Stark is, Zemo doubts he knows German or has equipped his AI to translate Zemo’s German dialect of Leipzig, the Upper Saxon.

So he talks on the phone, and though the conversation starts light and calm, it increases in speed and volume as Zemo tries to defend himself from well-deserved accusations. Sam is flinching everytime Zemo speaks, like he’s being physically hit, and the other Avengers are extremely alarmed.

Some minutes later, Zemo defeatedly says good-bye to the person talking to him and, after hanging up the phone, he stares at it sadly, like he’s considering to make a new call. Ultimately, Zemo sighs, shoves his mobile into the pouch on his belt and goes back to reading and finishing his dinner.

The Avengers are eerily silent, but they too go back to dining and bantering and watching TV.

* * *

 

December arrives with bad weather and Christmas decorations to be scattered all over the Avengers Tower. It’s time for the Avengers to be creative and embellish their home, and they make the best of it. The Christmas tree in the middle of the living room is the centre of attention, huge and overly-decorated with lights and Avengers-themed balls and stars and ribbons – and on the night of the 24th, Rogers will be friendly coerced to use his shield as the start on the top of the tree (the man to blame is Tony Stark). There are also smaller Christmas trees in other places of the tower as well: in the gym, in the laundry room, in the conference room, in the entrance, in the helipad, in the lift; the kitchen isle, the cupboards, the fridge, the backs of the couches and the flat-screen TV are decorated with colourful garlands; there are wreaths on every door… except for Baron Zemo’s bedroom door.

In fact, Zemo seems to not share the Avengers’ Christmas enthusiasm: when he’s not sword fighting with Rogers or training with the team, he’s hidden in his bedroom; he doesn’t want Christmas candy and refuses to hang the wreath; he doesn’t want to make cookies with Thor and, by the way he has been stashing canned food in his bedroom, seems he doesn’t want to be around when the Avengers make their Christmas dinner – the only time of the year in which they _cook_.

He’s also been… quiet. Tony, Clint, Natasha and Sam say he’s merely annoyed by the good vibes in the air; the Hulk isn’t even worried; only Thor and Rogers suspect he’s upset.  

Thor wants to help his not-exactly-a-friend-but-also-not-exactly-an-enemy, but he’s aware that Rogers is the only Avenger truly skilled enough to deal with Baron Zemo, so he merely asks Rogers to share his findings with him, so that then the two of them can try and cheer up Zemo.

The next sword fighting practice, Rogers decides to give it a try: Zemo is usually more relaxed when there’s just the two of them and the swords. However, Rogers gets nothing from the German other than annoyed grunts and harshness.

Zemo has been like this since the phone call, so it must be the cause to his permanent sourness.

And Rogers makes a decision he’s not proud of: for Zemo’s good, he’ll ask Iron Man to find the phone call in the sound recordings from the towers’ security system and have F.R.I.D.A.Y. translating it. It’s not the best solution and Captain America feels ashamed about nosing around Zemo’s privacy like this – and if the German knows about it (and Rogers is sure he’ll tell it all to Zemo because of his heavy conscience) … heck, he’ll be _furious_. Perhaps he’ll also wonder how could he have forgiven Rogers about his father’s death, if it's worth to trust a man who defends freedom so much… and yet goes around asking AIs to translate German – _private_ – conversations.

Rogers tries to appease his conscience by reminding himself this is all for Zemo’s good. That he’s only trying to help a man he hopes will soon become a friend and brother in arms like the other heroes.

* * *

 

“Tony, I was wondering if-“ Rogers walks in Tony’s lab and comes to a sudden halt, as he spots Tony looking closely at the screen of a small tablet. Fearing he might be interrupting some brilliant invention, Rogers turns around to leave. But Tony calls him:

“Cap, you won’t believe what I just found!!”

Curious and glad he didn’t interrupt, Rogers trots to Tony’s side and looks at the tablet. Tony taps the screen a few times and a list appears. Humming victoriously, Tony scrolls down a bit, until he finds the item – dated from a week ago – he’s looking for and clicks it. The screen goes black and sound waves appear as two German men start talking to each other. Under the sound waves, English subtitles decipher what is being said.

It’s Zemo and the person he was talking to on the phone – seems Iron Man had the same idea as Rogers, though certainly not moved by concerns about Zemo’s well-being.

Zemo was talking to a man that, judging by the voice, is much older than him. They must be familiar with each other, because the conversation was very informal – starting with Zemo addressing the older man by a silly nickname and being called in return an equally silly nickname. The topic was Zemo visiting the older man and a whole bunch of people that are probably family for Christmas… and Zemo excusing himself, saying he wouldn’t be able to make it but never giving a reason why, excuses that were met with accusations of Zemo wasting his time on Hydra and embarrassing the older man and his family with his failed evil deeds.

Reading the subtitles, Rogers feels sick. He shouldn’t be listening to this old man tear down Zemo like his father did to him, nor should he know the German’s silly nickname. This is all too private… On the other hand, Captain America can assume it was the harshness of the older man that hurt Zemo. That is still hurting him.

“I know you disapprove, Cap… But I thought you really should see this,” Tony says when the recording is over. He scrolls up again. “Look… shortly after you brought Zemo in… he has received or made almost daily calls to this man. 99% of times he’s in his bedroom when he talks on the phone. There are more people he calls to, but not so regularly. And you know what? They always speak in this stupid German dialect! I had to _invent_ a new software for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to be able to translate it!”

“They must be friends… Tony, you weren’t listening to all his calls, were you??” Tony smiles apologetically, and Rogers’ shoulders slump in defeat:

“I made some very interesting discoveries, Cap! These phone calls are all chit-chat and Zemo is extremely evasive when asked of his whereabouts or what he’s up to. The people he talks to, especially the old man, know all about his connection to Hydra and that he found his father’s serum,” At this point Rogers frowns: could these people be Zemo’s associates for some sort of evil plan against the Avengers? Tony leaves the tablet on his workbench and starts to pace back and forth, carrying the same expression of when he’s about to finish a particularly hard equation. “So, I asked Clint and Nat to make some research and-“

“Wait, all this in one week?? And you didn’t tell me anything??”

“Well, it’s not like you told _us_ , your team, your friends, that you’d bring home a criminal and take sword fighting lessons from him…” Tony snaps bitterly.

They glower at each other, and for a moment Rogers is about to storm off the lab: he’s furious, how could have Tony gone behind his back went it came to Zemo? And why is he still upset about Rogers showing up with Zemo??? Come on, he has apologised a million times!!!

Tony sighs and rubs his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He stops walking back and forth, and he looks sadly at his friend:

“I’m sorry, Steve… It’s just… You’re so worried about Zemo… I just wanted to help, I know the guy won’t spill the beans if you ask him personally…”

Rogers can’t be mad anymore and smiles, understanding. Having Captain America’s approval, Tony proceeds to explain what he has been up to:

“I asked Clint and Nat to make some research. And they’ve just sent me a very interesting report from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s archives. You know, the kind you like: endless papers alphabetically organized in giant card boxes,” They both chuckle, and Rogers must admit now he’s extremely curious – and somehow dreadful – about Tony’s finding. “The old man, the other people Zemo talks to… they’re his cousins! But like… there’s dozens of them, Steve!! The old man is his direct cousin, but the others? I have never seen this much of removed cousins and distant relatives!!! Most are from his mother’s side of the family, I gave up on the subject when I started to find cousins related to his father’s father…”

A huge weight is lifted from Rogers’ shoulders and he lets out a breath he hadn’t noticed he had been holding. _Family_. Of course it’s family: besides power, Zemo gives great importance to his family – especially to Heinrich Zemo:

“But if they’re his cousins… why doesn’t he tell them of his whereabouts?” Rogers asks and scratches his chin, thoughtful. Iron Man shrugs:

“No idea, Cap… and that’s the odd part: Zemo’s relatives were never involved with Hydra, nor with the Nazis. The old man is especially keen on nagging Zemo about his evil plans, so I can only imagine it would be a pleasant surprise to know that the problematic child is currently with the good guys,” And Tony adds hurriedly, because Rogers smiles widely. “Not that I’m buying his change of heart, Steve…”

“You’ll see, Shellhead. He’s a good man.”

But why wouldn’t he tell his family he’s not with Hydra anymore? Why is Helmut Zemo always allowing his family to hurt him?

* * *

 

Villains like to celebrate Christmas with their families as well, that is why the Avengers have nothing to do. At least, this is Sam’s explanation for the seasonal lack of action.

Zemo is still quiet and sour, but so far Rogers has made a good job of not telling him about the translated phone calls, and his cousins… and his silly nickname.

But as Christmas Eve approaches, Rogers can’t hold it anymore. He feels despicable, it simply isn’t fair for Zemo: his right to privacy was disrespected. Captain America is also afraid this situation will break Zemo’s fragile trust in him and in the rest of the Avengers, and that it will compromise his rehab into goodness. Rogers would never forgive himself if he lost Zemo to his old ways just because he didn’t man up to confront him personally and insist with him to share what was wrong.

Miscommunication is the death of every team, isn’t it?

So, few days before Christmas Eve, when the Avengers are settling in for a movie night, Rogers decides it’s time to talk to Zemo. Making popcorns, lemonade and choosing the movies takes a long time for the Avengers, and Rogers hopes he can use that time to have this talk without interruptions.

He knocks at Zemo’s bedroom door, and after a moment the door opens just enough to allow his masked head out:

“What do you want, Steven?” he grunts.

“We need to talk,” Rogers says quietly, but his tone carries a veiled command. They _must_ talk. Zemo senses that command, and after a little hesitation he sighs, defeated, and opens the door completely. Rogers expects him to come outside; instead, Zemo steps back and signals Rogers to come in. Captain America has never been in Zemo’s bedroom, and the fact that Zemo is allowing him in only makes Rogers felt guiltier. With a sigh, he follows Zemo and closes the door behind him.

Baron Zemo’s bedroom is dull, even with the white paint on the walls and the lights on: the full-length windows that make the wall opposite to the door are covered by dark curtains made of a heavy fabric, shut completely at this time of the night; the bookshelves and the desk, on the same wall as the door, and even the large throne-like chair in front of the desk, are made of dark wood; the bed is large and the quilt covering it is dark and looks almost like chain mail, cold and heavy; there are dozens of pillows scattered over the bed and on the floor, all black. There are colours, like the velvety purple of the curtains and the silver-grey of the quilt and of the large round carpet next to the bed; yet these colours are all dark and mournful, like the owner of that bedroom is still grieving. Even the laptop, closed and abandoned on the bed, is black. The brightest things in that bedroom are Zemo’s pink mask and golden headband, and Captain America has the feeling that, if he opens Zemo’s built-in closet, he’ll find only black and grey clothes.

Some cans of food are lined over the desk, next to a black vintage turntable and a neat pile of vinyls. There’s an open book, facing down and with a marker sticking out by the last pages, on the carpet next to the bed. Zemo was probably reading, and Rogers notices he’s barefoot and that his boots seem to have been kicked-off near the desk. So Rogers doesn’t go further into the bedroom and crosses his hands behind his back, watching as Zemo picks up his book and moves the marker to the intended place:

“Why did you tell your relatives you wouldn’t meet them for Christmas?” Rogers asks with a sigh, and has the unpleasant feeling that the thin ice he's walking on is cracking.

Zemo tenses for a moment, his back turned at Rogers. Then he closes the book loudly and turns around abruptly, glowering through his mask. Rogers can imagine his violet eyes staring daggers at him, and the ice he’s walking on is breaking:

“How?” Zemo snarls, and he tosses the book over his shoulder, to the bed:

“I… I didn’t mean to nose around, Helmut… But there was something wrong with you, and you wouldn’t tell… I just-“

“The AI recorded me, didn’t it?” Zemo asks angrily, but his fury is also directed to himself: he was stupid to underestimate Stark and his technology. Rogers nods apologetically:

“There… there were more phone calls, F.R.I.D.A.Y. translated them and Clint and Natasha made some research on your relatives…” Rogers pauses, watching as Zemo balls his fists. “I didn’t mean to, but-“

“I trusted you,” Zemo hisses, and he has just realised that. He trusted Captain America. It wasn’t just for the sake of his plan… he meant it! He had started to trust Rogers the moment he was told he wasn’t going to the vaults. Accepting to train with the Avengers, sword fighting with Rogers, being in the living room more often, telling Rogers about his younger cousins, allowing Rogers to bandage his back… he meant it. He had unconsciously and honestly began to trust the man he had falsely forgiven for the death of his father, the man he wants to destroy so much. And _Captain America_ , of all people, had disrespected his privacy.

Hearing from Zemo the confirmation that the German trusted him feels like a physical aggression, and for a moment Rogers has the sensation that he’s off balance. The broken ice is drifting apart. He has failed Zemo, ironically the only person he couldn’t fail to.

Rogers shakes his head and raises his hands in an attempt at an appeasing gesture:

“I was worried, I just wanted to help you! I know it’s not an excuse, but-“

Zemo is having none of that. He barks at Rogers to leave his room immediately, not even noticing he spoke in German. Rogers, however, seems to understand, because he simply lowers his head in defeat and leaves.

And Zemo is left alone in his bedroom, pacing back and forth furiously; and he’s angry about Rogers nosing around, and he’s angry about having underestimated Stark, and he’s hurt that his family is upset with him, and he’s hurt that the trust he put on Rogers was so meaningless it was broken just like that.

* * *

 

Captain America is gutted about the whole thing, and he can’t understand why the other Avengers don’t make a big deal out of reading the subtitles of Zemo’s phone calls. Thor, however, seems to understand Rogers’ point, and he too agrees that they should have tried harder to talk to him:

“The Baron isn’t made of steel,” Thor states eventually with a comprehensive smile. “It is possible to get through to him. Maybe when he cools down...”

Yet Rogers is sure that Zemo will make that even more difficult – that if he ever brings himself to forgive Rogers… again. Captain America is perfectly aware that he’s asking too much of Baron Zemo, and that it’s up to him alone to fix things and prove the German his good intentions.

And on the morning before Christmas Eve, Rogers asks Tony to help him make a video-call with his mobile.

* * *

 

It’s Christmas Eve and, if the Avengers don’t stop singing carols at such an early time in the morning, Zemo will throw himself off the window.

The curtains remain closed, so that he won’t have to see the snow and Christmas lights and families together outside in New York City. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, hunched over his family photo-album, seriously considering rebuilding the time-machine and go back to the past. Go anywhere but the Avengers Tower.

Zemo's mobile, across him on the bed, starts to ring. Zemo reaches out for it and discovers it’s his cousin, the one he talks to the most, the one he tried to explain he wouldn’t make it home for Christmas this year. Zemo frowns and answers the call:

“Yes? Is everything alright?” His cousin was so upset, the only reason he’s calling now can only be to deliver bad news. Surprisingly, his cousin laughs:

“Get on Skype! We are all here and we want to see what that famous serum did to you!”

Zemo is speechless, completely caught off guard. His cousin sounds… like he’s not upset. Not anymore. Smiling widely, Zemo pulls his mask off, sets the photo-album aside, crawls to the end of the bed and switches on his laptop. The moment he logs in his Skype account, he’s receiving a video-call.

His relatives, old and new, are all gathered on the large living room of his cousin’s mansion. His cousin is right there, at the computer, and all the others stand behind him, smiling expectantly. There is laughter and widened eyes when they see Zemo – they were used to see his aged face. They all greet him enthusiastically, all talking at the same time and over each other, commenting his looks and thanking for the gifts he sent. Zemo just smiles widely: what could have led his relatives to forgive him like this?

“You are dense as always, Helmut! Why didn’t you tell us about the Avengers?” his cousin, Klaus, demands over the animated chatting of the other relatives, who grow silent and wait for Zemo’s answer. Klaus is as old as Zemo, but likes to act like he has twice the age. He’s tall and skinny, with bony hands, white hair, a skullish face with a thin Roman nose and small, clever blue eyes that stare intently at Zemo through the webcam.

Zemo frowns and tilts his head:

“How do you know that?” he asks. One of the pre-teen boys can’t hold himself and squeals in delight, his head peeking over Klaus’ shoulder:

“Captain America called!!!”

A chorus of ‘Captain America called!!’ is repeated by the younger ones, while the older ones merely nod in approval. Klaus shushes them and proceeds to tell Zemo the story of Captain America Called:

“This foreign number called to my phone, yesterday, at midnight! I thought it was a joke, so I picked up the phone to tell them what I thought of it. Then this man speaks to me in English, claiming to be Captain America and begging me to give him a minute of my attention. I was convinced it was a… how do you call them, trolls? Yes, I was convinced it was a troll, and I said I wanted proof this was actually Captain America,” Klaus pauses and chuckles, and Zemo knows two things: one, this has become Klaus’ favourite story to tell the future generations; two, Steve Rogers was gifted with the best of German swearing – and probably English too – and the thought of it is both amusing and embarrassing. “To my surprise, the «troll» made a video-call… and it was him, Helmut! It was Captain America!”

“Why didn’t you tell us you’re an Avenger, now??” One of the young girls inquires excitedly, her head popping up from the lower corner of the screen:

“Because I am not!” Zemo exclaims, shocked. “Why did Rogers-“

“He told me you couldn’t come home because you are under the Avengers’ custody… That you will become a better man, Helmut,” Klaus proceeds softly, and he smiles affectionately. “You could have told me, silly. I would not have been that angry if you had told me why you couldn’t come… I thought it was another Hydra nonsense, but no! I’m so glad for you, Helmut! I’m so glad you will make your own path!”

Zemo forces a smile.

This is exactly why he didn’t want his relatives to know he’s under the Avengers’ custody. Now they’ll have great expectations on him… and Zemo can’t be up to them, because his only goal is to destroy the Avengers and Captain America. And then take back his commanding position in Hydra, and continue his father’s projects. It’s the exact opposite of what his relatives want… and Zemo doesn’t have the guts to disappoint them.

But he will have to muster courage for it… He must destroy the Avengers and Captain America, must pursue his father’s legacy and goals.

For the time being, however, Zemo doesn’t want to think about it. He only wants to enjoy the presence of his family, even if they are in a computer screen. So he pushes all thoughts on his future plans to the back of his mind, but there’s still one thing he can’t stop thinking about.

Why did Rogers do this? Why did he bother to properly explain Klaus why Zemo couldn’t go home? Zemo is furious that Rogers nosed around his business again.

Still, Zemo speaks for hours straight with his relatives, until it’s too late in the night in Germany and they have to finish the call.

It lifts his spirits, but he’s still thinking about _why_ Rogers did it. And surprisingly… he’s not furious anymore. Looking at it now, Rogers probably meant well… just like when he looked up his phone calls. The German wants to asks Rogers about it. About the _why_. But not now, maybe after all the excitement about Christmas is over, when the other Avengers aren’t around and he can talk more privately to Captain America.

Zemo has these little embers of hope that the unconscious trust he put on Rogers isn’t meaningless, after all. That the sworn enemy of his father, _his_ greatest enemy, cares for him somehow.

* * *

 

In the night of the 25th, the Avengers Tower is finally quiet. Zemo doubts the heroes have left for a walk, they must be in their respective bedrooms. Taking the chance that nobody is there to annoy him, Zemo moves all the empty food cans from his desk to the large trash bin in the kitchen and almost has a heart attack when finding the Dantean mess in the kitchen, and in the living room, and by no means he, Baron Zemo, will help to clean up.

After getting rid of the empty cans, Zemo walks back to the silent bedrooms corridor and knocks at the door of Rogers’ room.

Rogers opens the door shortly after, and he clearly wasn’t expecting visitors: his hair is a mess, he’s dressed with an old t-shirt and old sport shorts and his fingers and left cheek are smudged with charcoal. He widens his eyes in surprise when seeing Zemo, and immediately wipes his hands on his t-shirt.

Zemo tilts his head:

“Is it a bad time?” he asks, but Rogers flashes him a radiant smile and steps aside, inviting him in:

“Never a bad time,” Rogers replies enthusiastically. Zemo nods and steps in the bedroom, closing the door after him – he wants to talk privately to Rogers, and having the Tower’s AI spying on him constantly is enough, he doesn’t need some other Avenger to show up and interrupt.

Rogers has been making a charcoal drawing of the team on an A3 paper sheet, and the almost finished drawing is in display on the easel in the middle of the bedroom. Though Captain America’s bedroom is the peak of cleanliness and organization, pencils, rubbers and all sorts of drawing materials are scattered all over the floor, and in an attempt at maintaining the pristine image of his bedroom, Rogers hurriedly picks them up and piles them on his desk. Now that Zemo is sure no shield will be thrown at his head, he takes in his surroundings more calmly: Captain America isn’t only artsy, judging by the various paintings and drawings on the walls… he’s also oddly humble for an American symbol, having only one flag hanging on the wall and a board displaying his various medals:

“So… how can I help you?” Rogers asks, hoping Zemo is in a better mood and that the invasion of his privacy is forgiven: it seems the German isn’t there to fight, only to talk.

Zemo crosses his arms in front of his chest:

“You told my cousin I could not go home because I am under your custody,” the German states. “Why did you bother?”

Rogers' smile dies and he looks at Zemo sadly, fidgeting with a pencil:

“I just wanted to make things right for you… It wasn’t fair that your cousin hurt you about something that wasn’t truth!”

Zemo just frowns under his mask, confused:

“Why would you care?” He can understand that Rogers cares about his opinion after the trainings, but not why he cares about more personal matters… like this one, or when Zemo was injured.

Or when Captain America decided to take him under his wing and make him a… hero…

Rogers looks down at the pencil he’s playing with, then puts it down and looks up at Zemo again:

“Because I want to help you. I don't see you as an enemy anymore... You’re a good man, Helmut; you deserve better,” He pauses, clenches his jaw. “I know I shouldn’t have looked up your phone calls, but I just wanted to understand why you were upset and see if I could do anything about it.”

Zemo nods, and since there is nothing compromising him in the phone calls… he can let this one go. No need to compromise his glorious plan because of phone calls:

“Apologies accepted,” he announces, and Captain America is momently surprised. He then gives Zemo a goofy grin and approaches him. Checking his hands to make sure there’s no charcoal on them, Rogers places both hands on Zemo’s shoulders:

“But Helmut, why didn’t you tell your family you’re not on Hydra anymore?”

The German sighs tiredly. He can’t let Rogers know he didn’t tell his relatives because he’s simply here to destroy the super-heroes:

“I do not want them to worry about me. Besides…” And Zemo frowns, thinking about this for the first time. “… even if I had told them… I still would not go home for Christmas…”

“Why?”

“Because you must always keep an eye on me, is it not?” Zemo snorts and shakes his head. “You would not go to Germany with me: your family is right here, those noisy friends of yours.”

Rogers hadn’t thought about that either. Zemo didn’t accuse him or blame him of anything, but still Rogers withdraws his hands, unsure of Zemo’s intentions: is this a new argument beginning?, or is Zemo simply telling him a fact? Because it is a fact – one way or another, Zemo wouldn’t have gone home for Christmas: Rogers wouldn’t have the courage to leave his friends to go with Zemo… nor would the Avengers allow it.

“I also came here to thank you… for talking to Klaus,” Zemo proceeds softly, and there will be no more arguments about Christmas. “I was able to be with my cousins, via Skype, and I would not if Klaus were still upset.”

“He sounded like a… very nice man,” Rogers smiles again, understanding that there will be no more discussions. The ice is safe to walk on again. “He sounded very protective of you. Is he older than you?”

“Spare me your show, Steven… He was rude with you; I know my cousin,” Zemo chuckles, because he would have liked to see Rogers’ face when Klaus greeted him with a mighty barrage of profanity. Then he adds more quietly, because now that he has the super-soldier serum, it feels weird to say it. “We have the same age.”

Rogers smiles shyly and blushes a little: Zemo’s cousin sure had a hell of a vocabulary, but maybe he deserved it for calling an old man in the middle of the night…

The tension that had grown between them is gone. Even though Rogers wants to ask Zemo about his relatives, about the nicknames… he doesn’t. He better not push his luck. Besides, he’s positive that Zemo will share it when he feels like it – like the small detail about his younger cousins and gaming.

They stare at each other in an increasingly awkward silent, until Zemo looks down at his boots and clears his throat:

“It was nice of you… I thought I might retribute the gesture,” Just to be even with Rogers, by no means Baron Zemo is sentimental about the whole thing; nor he wants to acknowledge that, since Rogers was so thoughtful about something Zemo cares so deeply for, he should also do something… meaningful.

_Baron Zemo is not sappy._

With a sigh, Zemo pulls off his mask and looks up from his boots to Rogers, who widens his eyes in surprise.

Zemo has a square face with high cheekbones, a snub nose that makes him look boyish, thin lips and a prominent jaw. His blond hair is arranged in a neat undercut and he has thin angled eyebrows that give him an arrogant look.

The hairstyle reminds Rogers of the Nazi soldiers he fought in the war. Though Zemo’s hair isn’t the only remembrance of the war to Rogers: the German has a large scar on the left side of his face, from his cheekbone to his chin, and on the right side he has a narrow, vertical scar on his forehead and another scar on the corner of his mouth, across the lips – Rogers remembers seeing high ranking Nazi officers with this kind of scars: duelling scars worn like badges of honour by upper-class university students and graduates. Somehow, Rogers isn’t surprised that Zemo, too, carries these scars.

And then those violet eyes, so cold and hard… though Rogers swears they’re staring at him in a much softer way than last time.

Captain America can now conclude that Baron Zemo is… nice, very nice to look at. Rogers is still fascinated with his eyes, and he admits to himself the German has all the strong features he likes to draw on human faces – also, that snub nose is just screaming for a cartoony version of Baron Zemo.

“I hope you know your trust in me means a lot,” Rogers states after a moment with a kind smile, well aware that, by showing his face, Zemo has both given him a gift and made it clear that Captain America is not allowed to disappoint him again.

Zemo’s thin lips turn upwards in a small smile, finding Rogers’ words reassuring in a way he shouldn’t be comfortable with, considering he plans to destroy him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always appreciated and treasured! :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you people for your support. I'm so motivated to write!  
> Also, Gothbloodnightmare was so kind and made a piece of fanart for this story! You can check that amazing art here: https://gothbloodnightmare.deviantart.com/art/Steve-seeing-Zemos-eyes-for-the-first-time-735771922?ga_submit_new=10%3A1521227804

As the New Year draws closer, Zemo hides in his bedroom more often. He might be an evil mastermind, super-villain and experimented fighter… but the Hulk laughing gives him headaches; the glittery and sparkly New Year decorations that suddenly replace Christmas decorations make him flinch his eyes; Thor slapping his back and stating in his booming voice that he’s glad Zemo is more cheerful startles him everytime; and he’s pretty sure Hawkeye will try to sneak on him to rub balloons on his mask to create static electricity and then stick the balloons to his head. Fortunately, there are no more Christmas carols, but still Zemo tries to block the ruckus of the Avengers Tower with classical music

* * *

 

New Year’s Eve is always busy with the Avengers: guests arriving; food for the party arriving; said food being hidden safely away from Thor, Hawkeye and the Hulk; Tony supervising the finishing touches of New Year decorations; Natasha stressing about wearing her usual clothes or putting on an actual dress. Fortunately, the villains are too busy celebrating as well, and the Avengers don’t need to worry about saving the world. Peace usually lasts for around three days after the New Year…

This year the Avengers are throwing a big party: Ant-Man, Spider-Man, Captain Marvel, Black Panther, Doctor Strange, Ms. Marvel, Inferno and Songbird are coming over.

And Captain America, always so delighted to have his friends around, feels like he’s not excited enough about the party. He should be at the window with his binoculars, monitoring the arrival of the guests and then shouting their name to let the other Avengers know a new victim to wear ridiculous party hats is coming. Yet he’s not at the window with his binoculars: he’s sitting on the couch, alone, zapping and finding nothing that captures his interest. Maybe a warm mug of hot chocolate, like his mother used to make when she could afford the ingredients, will help him…

Rogers is stirring the mix in the saucepan when an image of Zemo with a pink party hat with golden dots crosses his mind. It’s enough to make him chuckle, and _maybe_ he’ll doodle it later – the thought of drawing Zemo is a bit strange, at least while the German is still reluctant about the other Avengers.

The hot chocolate is ready and Rogers retrieves a big mug from the cupboard. He intends to pour all the drink in the mug and drink all by himself, but he hesitates: it’s a bit too much, he should fill two smaller mugs instead and share it with someone. But who? Tony drinks no hot beverages other than coffee; Thor chokes on the hot chocolate because it’s too sweet for him; Clint would drink his and Rogers’ mug; the Hulk doesn’t like to hold on the warm mug, claiming the warmth annoys him; Sam isn’t in the Tower, having gone spend the New Year with his mother; Natasha prefers cold drinks.

Rogers slowly glances over his shoulder, to the bedrooms corridor. He then replaces the big mug by two smaller ones, pours the steamy drink into the mugs and carries them into the corridor.

He can hear the faint sound of music coming from Zemo’s bedroom and he needs to knock twice at the door, until finally Zemo opens the door just enough for his masked head to pop out:

“Yes, Steven?” The German doesn’t sound surprised to find Rogers knocking at his door. To explain himself, Rogers lifts the mugs a bit and smiles. Zemo narrows his eyes: what is it with Steve Rogers and smiles??

But Captain America brings an offering, and super-villain Baron Zemo likes chocolate. He steps aside, opens the door a bit more to let Rogers in and closes it again once Rogers is inside.

Rogers is saluted by classical music – he’s not into it, but it’s not bad either. Zemo walks away to the turntable to stop the music, and Rogers notices that Zemo’s laptop is open on the desk, surrounded by notebooks written in black and underlined in yellow. The hand-writing is narrow and elegant, but Rogers looks away politely as the German walks up to him again and he hands Zemo one of the mugs. However, his furtive glancing didn’t go unnoticed:

“Hypnotherapy,” Zemo grunts, and doesn’t know whether to simply lift his mask to expose his mouth or pull it off completely. Oh well, it’s not like his face is a secret to Rogers anymore, and probably Captain America is expecting him to do it. For the greater good of his plan, Zemo needs to correspond to Rogers’ expectations… so, with a sigh, he pulls off his mask and tosses it to the bed.

Rogers interprets the gesture as Zemo being comfortable around him and having restored his trust in him. He also notices the German is barefoot, and he hurriedly toes off his trainers. That earns him an approving raised eyebrow from Zemo, sipping at his hot chocolate and looking at Rogers over the mug.

They stare at each other in awkward silence, until Rogers clears his throat and sips at his mug too:

“Hypnotherapy?” he asks casually, stressing the «therapy» bit. It’s not like Zemo is plotting to hypnotise him again via ancient methods, right?

It seems to have the same effect as talking about swords. Zemo’s shoulders relax and he looks down at his mug, like he’s telling a secret he’s both proud and slightly embarrassed of:

“I am a therapist. You see, I have an estate to run, scientific research to found and family wealth to maintain…” he explains, then looks up again to Rogers. “I was going over some notes, now I have the time to re-read some things more carefully and catch up with some new articles that-“

“I didn’t know you’re a therapist.”

“And you claim your friends are super-spies?” Zemo grins widely, and the snub nose just makes him look like a mischievous teenager, all super-villain looks ruined from that moment on for Rogers:

“Well… Nat knows you’re a hypnosis master… but… I’m not sure she knows you use it for something good,” Rogers takes another sip of his hot chocolate, and now he’s extremely curious about Zemo and this whole hypnosis thing. He doesn’t remember what it was like, to be under Zemo’s control, and he should be extremely wary of the German and his knowledge. He can already picture the team’s reaction if they find out Baron Zemo is casually going over his hypnosis notes right under their noses – and he’s certain that, sooner or later, F.R.I.D.A.Y. will denounce the German.

Maybe he needs to talk to the AI and convince her to not tell the team about it… not now, when they’re finally accepting Problem Zemo. Rogers bites his lower lip softly, an increasing feeling of guilt souring his hot chocolate: he doesn’t want to lie to his friends… but he doesn’t want them to be upset about Zemo again.

In the meantime, the German has made his way towards the windows and is looking outside. The heavy dark curtains are pulled aside, but the day is cloudy and the weak light coming in the room isn’t enough to brighten it. Rogers makes an effort to push his worries about his friends to the back of his mind and joins Zemo, and for a while they simply stare outside in silence, sipping their drinks contently.

“Are you interested in hypnotherapy?” Zemo asks suddenly, looking at Rogers by the corner of his eye. Of course Rogers is interested. Captain America is becoming easier and easier to read, and the perspective that soon Rogers won’t be able to hide emotions and thoughts from Zemo is highly satisficing.

Heinrich Zemo would certainly be proud of his son, of how good he became on judging and reading and playing his opponents.

Rogers casts him a surprised glance, and for a moment he’s afraid of dwelling in that subject. On the other hand… Zemo has been giving him proof of his trust on him, and Rogers should retribute. With a sigh, Captain America looks outside again, to the city covered in a thin sheet of snow, and finds comfort in the hot chocolate mug he’s holding between his hands:

“I have trouble sleeping, sometimes…” he shares, and Zemo hums:

“Would you like to try a session?” He needs to fight back a huge, smug grin: who’d say _Captain America_ , who was successfully hypnotised once… would want to repeat the stunt? Rogers grimaces, so Zemo makes the deal sound more appealing. “With your friends watching, just to be sure I would not… hypnotise you into a chicken?”

This time Rogers laughs and Zemo’s lips turn upwards in an involuntary smile. Rogers’ laughter is pleasant, but since Zemo isn’t used to have people – that are not family – laughing around him, the sound is both enticing and eerie.

But another moment of awkward silence follows. Rogers scratches his head, thinking about something to say – and that is when he sees, through the window, Captain Marvel’s plane approaching the tower:

“Visits?” Zemo asks upon noticing the plane as well. Rogers nods. “I am not leaving my room, Steven…”

“You better not…” Rogers agrees.

If the Avengers still don’t accept Zemo, what would the other heroes do?

* * *

 

The party is going well: there is plenty of food, everybody is cheerful and it’s almost midnight.

The couches in the living room have been pushed to the sides, creating a large open area in the middle of the living room that is currently a dance floor for the younger heroes and for show-offs like Hawkeye, Ant-Man and Thor.

Rogers and Captain Marvel are engaged in friendly bickering about the Army and Air Force when Thor, with uncharacteristic grace and having drank too much champagne, swirls out of the makeshift dance-floor and wraps an arm around Rogers’ shoulders:

“Won’t the Baron join us?” he asks loudly and cheerfully.

All eyes are now on Rogers and Thor, inquiring; the Hulk looks hopeful again, because smashing Zemo would be a great way to start the new year; Tony, who’s talking to T’Challa and Doctor Strange, rolls his eyes exasperatedly; Natasha and Songbird, complementing each other’s dresses, narrow their eyes; Clint, attacking a bowl of Pringles, chokes. Ant-Man, Inferno, Ms. Marvel and Spider-Man, however, are confused:

“What Baron?” Peter asks innocently.

With a dramatic sigh, Iron Man proceeds to tell the tale of Problem Zemo, or how Captain America shamelessly smuggled one of his nemesis into the tower and lives with tranquil conscience about it. The way Tony tells it is actually funny – and the Avengers snort in amusement and don’t seem to be that upset anymore. Especially Thor, shouting excitedly that Zemo can use the PlayStation and has even recommended him some YouTubers to better his own gaming skills.

Captain Marvel and T’Challa, however, are not amused by Rogers’ shenanigan. Especially T’Challa, who has his own personal family feud with the Zemos; Ant-Man steals the bowl of Pringles from Hawkeye and watches intently as the drama unfolds; Doctor Strange has no idea of what’s going on, so he joins Scott on eating Pringles and watching the show; Songbird feels suddenly uncomfortable in her skin, because she too was a villain and an associate of Baron Zemo; the younger heroes exchange spooked looks, as none of them wants to take sides.

Natasha creates a diversion by announcing the beginning of fireworks in the downtown, and though a major discussion is avoided and the heroes approach the windows to see the fireworks, there’s already palpable tension among them.

* * *

 

The first day of the year is… strangely quiet at the Avengers Tower.

The lack of ruckus and chaos lures Zemo out of his bedroom, but when he’s about to go knock at Rogers’ bedroom door to ask what is going on, he hears the distinct sounds of the martyrdom of a punchbag. That immediately gives out Captain America’s location in the gym, and walking with silent steps despite his heavy combat boots, Zemo makes his way into the gym.

Rogers is either decided to start the year by ruining the punchbag or very angry. Zemo watches with a frown as he lands blow after blow on the bag, grunting with both effort and fury, and starts to turn his back to return to his bedroom.

But he should at least ask Rogers what’s the matter. _Only_ because Zemo was raised with manners and, despite being a super-villain, he’s polite; _he is not interested in Rogers’ well-being_.

Zemo makes a big effort to convince himself of that as he walks up to Rogers and leans on the ropes of the boxing ring, his arms crossed over the top rope:

“Steven?” he calls quietly.

Rogers stops his attack on the punchbag mid-action and turns around to look at Zemo, whose eyebrows shoot up to his hairline under his mask: Rogers is soaked in sweat, that dampens his blond hair and sticks his white t-shirt to his torso in a most inappropriate way… also making the t-shirt transparent. It doesn’t help that Rogers’ chest rises and falls quickly from all the exercise. Zemo swallows slowly and, much to his dismay, his eyes seem to have grown will of their own and insist on ignoring Rogers’ face in favour of his torso. Also, the AC in the gym must be broken: the place is too goddamn hot.

Never, in his whole life, has Baron Zemo been happier about wearing a mask.

Rogers’ usually pale face is flushed from the exercise, and he offers Zemo a half-smile when he sees him. But he feels something off about the German… namely, how he’s standing rather rigidly, looking at him intently through the pink mask. Zemo is probably a bit disgusted by all the sweat – he’s a _baron_ , afterall… noblemen, so full of manners and whatnot, probably have something against excessive sweat.

Feeling suddenly ashamed, Rogers turns his back at Zemo:

“Happy New Year,” Rogers salutes, though he doesn’t feel very cheerful.

Zemo misses it completely. Now that he’s this close and his eyes have decided to rebel against him, he notices Rogers’ soaked – and transparent - t-shirt sticks to his broad shoulders and back as indecently as it does to the front.

_Who’s the criminal, now?_

“Helmut?” Rogers asks, glancing over his shoulder.

Zemo shakes his head, like he fell asleep and was suddenly awakened. He lets out a very eloquent ‘Uh?!’ before gaining control of his eyes and cognitive capacities:

“Are you alright?” he finally manages to ask. “Or did you eat so much last night, that you need to burn the calories?”

Rogers smiles fully this time, picks up his bottle of water from the ground and takes a long chug. He then leaves the boxing ring, but doesn’t approach Zemo in fear that his sweaty person will offend the German:

“Wasn’t hungry at all, last night…” he confesses bitterly. He’s still upset that his friends almost nagged him again about Zemo, that they are friendly and supportive of Songbird and the other Thunderbolts but aren’t willing to be that nice to Zemo. It’s unfair, and Rogers doesn’t understand why the «everyone deserves a second chance» can’t apply to Zemo. Hawkeye, considering his past, should understand this…

The German merely hums, reading between the lines. It should make him happy that the Avengers and their other hero friends argued about his presence in the Avengers Tower, that they still aren’t on the same page with Rogers. His plan runs perfectly and smoothly, with the super-heroes doing all the hard work for Zemo.

Yet Zemo doesn’t feel that satisfied. Rogers is clearly affected by his friends’ disapproval, and Zemo tells himself it’s no fun to triumph over an enemy who has already been beaten down.

He is _not sorry_ for Rogers. Nope. Absolutely not. He feels sorry for nobody but himself and the sad faith of the noble lineage of Zemo.

They stand there, looking at each other in awkward silence. The situation is becoming way too repetitive and uncomfortable and Zemo crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking away from Rogers – from that obscenely sweaty and clingy t-shirt.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. breaks the silence by announcing there has been a security breach and that Ghost is in the tower’s depository.

* * *

 

Captain Marvel, T'Challa, Ant-Man, Songbird, Doctor Strange, the two teenage Inhumans and Spider-Man grudgingly fight alongside Baron Zemo to stop Ghost from stealing Kang’s technology that Tony left in the depository to study later. The Avengers are more accustomed to the concept, and Thor is extremely happy to fight on the same side as Zemo again.

More like… Baron Zemo, who, for the greater good of his evil plan rushed to the depository with Captain America, generously allows the other heroes to fight the same enemy in the same room as him. On the bright side, Captain America has given him his sword and pistols.

The fight is tough and long, but Ghost gets his arse handed to him in such a way that he retreats, disappearing from the tower empty-handed with the threat of returning later to finish what he started.

“An omen for a busy year!” Thor exclaims when their foe is gone, and he looks around to his comrades:

“Whatever, can I have breakfast now?” Clint whines, pressing his hands on his stomach to make it clear that he’s starving.

Everybody – including Zemo – agree it’s about time to have breakfast. So, the heroes start to leave the depository, making their way to the lift to go to the living quarters and get themselves breakfast. Kamala, Dante and Peter are the first to rush to the lift, not without casting Zemo curious looks; Doctor Strange, Hawkeye and the Hulk ignore the German and follow closely their younger friends; T’Challa walks past Zemo, scowling at him, and would have probably stopped to punch him if Iron Man hadn’t pushed him gently to keep him walking; Songbird hurries after Iron Man, looking nervously at the former leader of the Masters of Evil/Thunderbolts; Thor walks to him, pats his shoulder and tells him it was a good fight – to which Zemo replies that yes, it was a good fight, and Baron Zemo is merely a very educated man, he does not find the Norse god amusing; Captain Marvel pulls Thor away by the arm, narrowing her eyes at Zemo, and they make their way to the lift.

Finally, only Zemo and Rogers are left in the depository. Rogers, who had the decency to at least put on the upper part of his suit when he went to his bedroom to fetch Zemo’s weapons, is leaning against the wall: he’s more tired than the usual, considering his vigorous attack on the punchbag before the tough fight and the lack of breakfast. Still, he flashes Zemo a smile, apparently in a better mood since his friends said nothing about the German:

“Uh, what a way to start the year, it’s a first!” he comments, then grimaces. “I need a bath, urgently. Guess I’ll eat breakfast together with lunch…”

Rogers goes on about food and how hungry he is while at the same time being desperate for a nice bath, but Zemo isn’t listening anymore.

His treacherous mind makes him see again the soaked, transparent t-shirt sticking to a formidable body.

* * *

 

Festivities gone, life goes back to normal at the Avengers Tower – and Zemo eventually accepts a new gaming session with Thor, that he still wins but with a little more difficulty.

Fortunately, Zemo buries deep down in his mind the Episode Of The Sinful T-Shirt and is able to proceed his sword-fighting trainings with Rogers like nothing happened. But thinking of it, nothing really happened: Zemo simply saw more than he needed, and it’s not like he has never seen a male torso before. A handsomely muscled male torso. The ideal of male beauty and perfection he grew up with in Nazi Germany.

But again, it’s simply a muscled male torso.

He’s got one too, it’s no big deal.

The next few times the Avengers go on mission, Zemo still goes unarmed and is still left alone in the Aven-Jet: yet step by step he’s achieving what he wants, and now besides behind unshackled, he’s left loose inside the jet (that Tony assures is now 100% impossible to hack; therefore, impossible for Zemo to steal – sometimes Zemo feels tempted to try it just out of spite). He also doesn’t roll around ungraciously on the floor anymore because he holds on the back of Thor’s seat.

All things considered, the Avengers are starting to accept the fact that Baron Zemo will stick around and they argue about it less and less. Which is not good for Zemo’s evil plan, and he sees no other option besides bringing in the cavalry – the unglorified means of gossip.

Surprisingly, the heroes getting used to him doesn’t bother Zemo that much: though he still wants so smack Hawkeye on the face because the guy is not funny; and maybe smack Tony Stark too because he’s so arrogant; and maybe the Hulk as well, just to show him Baron Zemo isn’t scared of a big green monster; and maybe lock away Black Widow and hide the keys, because he simply doesn’t like her. Other than that, he considers that Falcon is simply a humble college student who needs a better sleeping schedule and that Thor isn’t that bad.

Though the only super-hero Zemo _willingly_ interacts with is Captain America. Rogers is his main target, that’s why. By no means his company, quiet and educated, is pleasant to Zemo.

* * *

 

Rogers finds Zemo in the laundry room, reading a book while waiting for the drier to finish. It’s still strange to see him in civilian clothes, but Rogers must confess he prefers the black balaclava to the pink mask – at least, it lets him see Zemo’s eyes:

“Here you are!” Rogers announces as he walks towards Zemo, who looks up from his book. “The team was briefing… and I’ve got something for you.”

Zemo merely tilts his head. Last time Captain America had something for him, Zemo ended up in the Avengers Tower. Rogers leans on the counter, shoulder to shoulder to Zemo, but unlike most times when he talks to the German, he’s not smiling. This immediately raises suspicion, and whatever is coming, Zemo can tell is no good for him:

“There’s this desert island in the Atlantic… a former Hydra base that was abandoned in the late 90ies, according to S.H.I.E.L.D. reports,” Rogers begins, and Zemo already knows what this is about. “A.I.M. is rebuilding the facility again, and we can’t let that happen. So… considering A.I.M. is affiliated to the Red Skull and, in a smaller scale, to Hydra… I was wondering if you’d like to come along and fight with us.”

Zemo clenches his jaw: he hadn’t been wrong… This is absolutely no good for him: if he sides with the Avengers, Hydra will think he’s a traitor (that if Doctor Doom hasn’t already told the villain community about his stay with the Avengers… or if that dreadful article on the blog of Falcon’s mother hasn’t been read by the wrong people) and that will make his return to his commanding position in Hydra much more difficult; however, if he refuses to go, the Avengers will suspect of him… and Rogers will be… disappointed.

Zemo sees in Rogers’ blue eyes the high expectations he has on him and that he’s not voicing. It’s all too similar to the way his father used to look at him, with the difference that Rogers allows mistakes.

The German, however, has grown to forbid himself of making mistakes, no matter how small and meaningless they are. Zemo simply cannot afford that luxury, and realises his whole future hangs on the decision he makes about this mission.

His first official mission with the Avengers.

He nods, slowly: A.I.M. and Hydra might think whatever they want of him – they’ll change their minds once he single-handedly destroys the Avengers and Captain America:

“It would be an honour,” Zemo says quietly. Not an honour, but it sounds pretty, like the sappy kind of things Rogers would be happy to hear.

And Rogers smiles widely, smiling with both lips and eyes, looking at Zemo with a mix of pride and… Zemo doesn’t know what is that other thing besides pride that lurks from Rogers’ blue eyes, but whatever it is, it clenches his heart while at the same time making him feel good. How he wishes his father had looked at him like that…

Zemo might not know what the thing is, but Rogers is looking at him with both pride and fondness. He must admit he wasn’t expecting Zemo to be willing to join the Avengers in such a mission, and the fact that Zemo wants to come along and fight against an associate of the Red Skull… it only assures Rogers that he has been right about Helmut Zemo this whole time. He’s so proud of him, for wanting to become a better man no matter how hard it is, and Captain America is aware this is difficult for Zemo, that it costs him to make the right choices – that is why he feels so suddenly and overwhelmingly fond of Zemo.

Captain America could hug Baron Zemo right now, but refrains himself in time. No need to be awkward.

* * *

 

Flying to the A.I.M. base, the Avengers have mixed feelings about Zemo tagging along not as cargo, but as an unofficial team member: the Hulk is hopeful that today is the day of Smashing; Thor is delighted to fight alongside his favourite gaming adversary; Sam, Clint and Natasha have never been this suspicious about the German and are sure he’s plotting something evil; Iron Man wants Zemo to make something wrong so that he can say ‘I told you so!!’ to Rogers, while at the same time he wants the German to behave because of Rogers. Rogers is over the moon, with a stupid, unprofessional smile spread across that patriotic face of his. And Tony Stark be damned, but Steve Rogers is his best and if he’s this happy about that pompous German in a pink mask tagging along, then Stark is happy for his friend too.

The things he does for his friends…

“So, I take it you’re familiar with the facility, Zemo…” Black Widow states, breaking the silence in the Aven-Jet. Zemo is holding on the back of Thor’s seat, and he shrugs:

“I am familiar with the island. If A.I.M. is building a new facility, I cannot guarantee you I know it,” he replies, and that makes Clint sigh in exasperation:

“Speak English, please!”

Zemo grunts:

“The original Hydra base was destroyed. If a new one is built and does not respect the original one, I do not know it.”

“Destroyed, you say? Hm, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s report is a bit vague about the whole thing. Enlighten us,” Widow requests, and maybe Zemo coming along isn’t that bad – at least, he shares some pieces that are lacking S.H.I.E.L.D., and when she’ll tell this to Nick Fury, he’ll be very pleased about it:

“My experiment destroyed the building…” Zemo excuses gingerly, grimacing at the memory. To this day, it still fills him with an unbearable feeling of shame on his failed attempt to replicate his father’s serum:

“Your experiment? Like… the two Hydra goons you unleashed on me and Widow when we went to rescue Cap from you?” Iron Man asks, stressing the part that he and Natasha saved Rogers from Zemo.

The German laughs bitterly:

“No, this one was bigger and meaner… We had to evacuate.”

“You absolute madman…” Hawkeye accuses, rolling his eyes, making Zemo glower at him. “What happened next, wasn’t the experiment shot down?”

“No. He died of spontaneous combustion. I believe that what happened was-“

“Thank you for your image of a gigantic Hulk-torch, really…” Iron Man snaps:

“I don’t combust!” the Hulk assures his friends, then frowns. “I think so…”

“There is a chance, if you are exposed to more gamma radiation…” Zemo ventures. He doesn’t mean to sound like he’s planning to set the Hulk on fire, he’s genuinely interested in the science behind it. “It could overheat your body and cause an internal meltdown, with organ failure, internal bleeding-“

“Right, you’re not picking horror movies for Horror Movie Night!” Falcon decides, horrified.

Zemo does not want to be part of that movie night nonsense, so he’s not even bothered about Falcon’s statement. Rogers, however, seems to have found a new and hopefully less macabre topic:

“What kind of movies do you like?” he asks, turning slightly on his seat, so that he’s able to look at Zemo, who frowns.

He wouldn’t mind talking about more personal matters like his taste in movies with Rogers _alone_. Now with the other Avengers? That’s none of their business!

Fortunately, Natasha announces they’re arriving.

* * *

 

Landing the Aven-Jet in a remote and unguarded part of the small island was easy, thanks to Zemo pointing out the location; approaching the A.I.M. base under construction, unnoticed, was child’s play; take down the guards was almost easy, if only one hadn’t managed to escape and alert everybody. From that moment on chaos ensued, the Avengers and Zemo were outnumbered and separated from each other.

Of all people, Zemo had to end up corned on a cliff with Hawkeye. It’s bad enough that it’s _Hawkeye_ , worst part is that the archer doesn’t shut up with his tasteless jokes, bad puns and unnecessary catch-phrases. Zemo is using his pistols instead of his sword, and he’s this close to «accidentally» shoot Barton off the cliff.

Still, the Avengers and Baron Zemo are winning the fight, and that forces A.I.M. to bring down the heavy artillery. Literally. From the unfinished facility, they bring a gigantic cannon that needs to be towed by a massive wheeled robot:

“You know what is that?” Natasha’s voice asks from Zemo’s earpiece:

“It works like Stark’s energy beams, with the difference that it vaporizes you…” he explains with a grimace. “But it was a prototype, I doubt this is the final version.”

“How about you stand still when it shoots at you?” Hawkeye suggests, and Zemo has never wanted to strangle someone so much in his whole life. Even Rogers’ cold-blooded murder of his father is almost meaningless compared to Clint Barton’s annoying existence.

Not that Captain America is forgiven for the death of Baron Heinrich Zemo the Twelfth. He is not, nor is his crime forgotten.

“I advise you to evade the line of fire, Steven,” Zemo grunts, and from his earpiece comes Captain America’s chuckle:

“I'm planning to.”

The cannon shoots once at the group of Avengers closer to it. A.I.M. soldiers keep swarming towards Hawkeye and Zemo:

“So… how do we stop that thing?” Hawkeye asks. “I’m kind of running out of arrows.”

“The wirings are on the bottom of the barrel,” Zemo explains, and that’s why he doesn’t even like A.I.M. that much; amateur snobbish scientists trying to equal their superior peers of Hydra. Tanks were proof that the destructible parts should not be on the bottom – and yet, some stupid A.I.M. engineer thought that putting the wiring under the barrel instead of inside an armoured compartment in the breech was a smart idea:

“Easy-peasy…” Hawkeye sounds almost disappoint and, saving his last arrow, darts forwards. Zemo runs after him, shooting from behind Hawkeye at the incoming enemies and cleaning the way for him. The other Avengers have noticed them and seem to understand what’s going on: Falcon and Iron Man clear one of the sides of the cannon from A.I.M. soldiers; Thor and the Hulk renovate their efforts of destroying the wheeled robot pulling it.

In the final meters, Hawkeye throws himself at the ground and makes a perfect roll that gives him aim to the bottom of the cannon. He shoots his last arrow – an explosive arrow – and it hits the intended target.

Zemo was right: the weakness of the gigantic cannon were the wirings under the barrel. The cannon explodes, sending hundreds of bits of shrapnel flying in every direction. Avengers, Zemo and A.I.M. soldiers take cover the best they can, including by becoming one with the ground.

The explosion is so strong it shakes the entire island and opens cracks on the ground. One of those cracks is snaking quickly towards Hawkeye and Zemo, lying flat right behind the archer. Zemo rolls to the side… but notices Clint is still lying on the same place. The crack on the ground is rapidly approaching.

Cursing, Zemo army-crawls towards him and shakes him by the shoulder:

“Move!” he instructs. But Clint’s body is limp, and when Zemo turns him over notices he’s bleeding from a cut on his temple.

Right. Exactly what Baron Zemo needs: an Avenger down, and morally under his responsibility. He can leave Hawkeye right where he is and let the ground swallow him. It would be so easy and a perfectly innocent accident… Besides, Zemo doesn’t even like him.

However, against all logic, Zemo pulls the unconscious Avenger to him, right on time to remove him from the advancing crack.

But the piece of ground Zemo is lying on, so close to the edge of the crack, gives away and crumbles down.

Zemo has only time to hastily throw Hawkeye to the side, to more solid ground; the next thing the German knows, he’s falling into darkness with a rain of debris.

So much for doing one good thing…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, a new chapter full of Feels. :'3  
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> And thanks everyone who's been supporting this fic with feedback and kudos, I really appreciate it!

Zemo hits the water in the bottom of the crack at a strange angle that has him howling in pain at the impact. He’ll certainly get a bruise…

His body is engulfed the by the cold water and he holds his breath. For a terrifying moment, time seems to slow down and he’s unable to swim back to the surface. Pieces of rock fall all around him, but it’s so dark down here he can’t see the debris, only feel it as it brushes past him, dangerously close.

Finally, he’s able to resurface. His lungs are on fire and his soaked mask sticks to his face in a way that makes it impossible for him to breathe. With a swift motion he pulls it off with a desperate gasp, and breathing has never felt so good. He ignores the pieces of rock raining all around him and stays afloat, taking in long and deep breaths.

There’s the distant sound of voices from above, and he looks up. It was a big fall, and he was lucky there is water underground. He can see blurred shapes at the edge of the crack, pitch black against the blue of the sky. His earpiece gives only static, and he’s afraid that, if he shouts, it will make more rocks fall – the walls are stabilizing, but for how long?

It’s too dark for Zemo to see if there is a way out – namely, if the walls are climbable. He swims to the nearest wall and wrings his mask, hoping that this way he can wear it and breathe properly. He tries it on, and the fabric is still too soaked.

But Zemo is stubborn, and he doesn’t want the Avengers to know what his face looks like. So the mask stays on, and he removes two small knives with retractable blades from two pouches of his belt. Like his sword, the knives’ blades are made of adamantium – Zemo is positive he can use them to climb all the way up if the rock doesn't give away.

With a grunt, he stabs the rock with one of the knives. Sparks flicker in the dark for a second, and again when Zemo buries the other blade deep in the rock. Then he hoists himself out of the water, pulls one of the knives off the rock vigorously to move it to a higher place, and repeats the process. He tries to take some weight off his arms and shoulders by supporting his booted feet on the rock, but the surface is too slippery and flat.

Painfully slowly, Zemo drags himself up. Breathing is extremely difficult with his mask so soaked and sticking to his face like that, and despite the super-strength, his muscles start to complain about the climb when he’s just completely out of the water.

He still has a long way to go…

Grinding his teeth and grunting with the effort, Zemo keeps going. His knives are holding on, and here and there he finds a cavity where he can put his toes for support. Sometimes the rock gives away and he slides down a bit, until the blades find a more stable part. His muscles hurt with a burning pain and he feels like his shoulders are being torn to shreds. He needs more oxygen than what he’s getting through the soaked mask, and the constant feeling of suffocation is making him nervous and slightly dizzy.

Suddenly, he hears something else in the dark, besides his breathing. The sound comes from above, and Zemo looks up, to the distant opening, and sees a dark figure descending towards him. He doesn’t know if it’s friend or foe, and he’s not in conditions to fight. He stands still, trying to even his desperate breathing, hoping he’s well hidden in the dark pit.

The figure approaches, and Zemo realises it’s Thor, spinning his hammer above his head and going down the crack as distant as possible from the walls:

“Baron?” he calls in his booming voice, and Zemo never thought he’d be so happy to hear an Avenger call him:

“Odinson,” he replies, and Thor comes down a bit more until Zemo is within arm’s reach. Standing on a protruding piece of rock, Zemo releases both knives with a grunt, shoves them inside their respective pouches and holds Thor’s wrist. He feels fingers wrapping around his own wrist, and slowly and carefully his feet leave the protruding rock he was standing on:

“The Captain is very distressed,” Thor reveals as they go up, slowly. Zemo’s arm feels like it will detach from his body, and he still can’t breathe properly. “Falcon saw how you so selflessly saved Hawkeye!”

“Good to know… otherwise… I would still… be down there…” Zemo grunts with effort. He should at least lift his mask above his mouth, but he can’t bring himself to raise his other arm.

After what feels like an eternity, Thor and Zemo emerge from the crack and the Norse god puts Zemo down. His knees buckle slightly under his weight, but he manages to recover his balance and stand. The sudden light has Zemo flinching and blinking his eyes rapidly.

There are no signs of A.I.M. soldiers and the Hulk is tearing down the base under construction; Falcon and Iron Man are dismantling the cannon; Black Widow is kneeling on the ground next to a barely conscious Hawkeye, pressing a piece of cloth against his wound.

And before Zemo can take in his surroundings completely, Rogers materializes in front of him and takes him in his arms. Zemo tenses up, confused: why is Rogers doing that? He should be embracing Hawkeye, the injured team member… or Thor, who brought Zemo from the bottom of the crack. Captain America should not be hugging Baron Zemo… for the very simply reason that this is _Baron Zemo_ we’re talking about, and nobody other than family dares hugging Baron Zemo.

Besides… Zemo would have hardly made it out of the crack by himself. He’s weak. It’s common sense that weaklings don’t deserve any kind of comfort and care, so that they toughen up for the next time. Zemo remembers very well of when he trained with his father: if he showed any signs of difficulty or pain, Heinrich Zemo would only make it worse; but if he corresponded to his father’s expectations, then he would be given encouraging words and, before the war, his father would even massage him.

So the German can’t understand why Rogers is embracing him, if this wasn’t his best performance. And he also can’t understand why he simply stays there, receiving something he doesn’t deserve, allowing his biggest enemy to comfort him.

And… enjoying it. Like he always does when Rogers gives him an importance he doesn’t know he has.

The German tells himself he simply isn’t in the mood to push Rogers away, now that he’s leaning on something solid and strong and warm.

“You’re injured!” Rogers startles Zemo, who finally finds willpower to straighten his back and step away from Rogers, who's looking down at Zemo’s legs.

Zemo doesn’t know he’s injured, only that his arms and shoulders hurt, that he needs air and that he’s dizzy. Still, he looks down at himself, trying to discover the injury, and spots a large gash in his calf.

* * *

 

“I’m really proud of you, Helmut,” Rogers says with sentiment, bandaging the gash in Zemo’s calf.

It’s just the second time Zemo needs to go the infirmary in the Aven-Jet, yet he’s already tired of that place. He’s sitting on the bench in the middle of the infirmary while Rogers, on his knees, tends to his wound.

This is not what Zemo had in mind when he imagined Captain America on his knees before him… In his dreams, there are ruins and fire and Hydra soldiers parading in triumph and Rogers is defeated and about to be executed. Not… not this! Not Rogers telling him how proud he is of Zemo and tending to his wounds despite the super-soldier serum, just for the sake of making him more comfortable.

“Yeah… thanks for that, Zemo…” Hawkeye groans from a stretcher on the floor, fully conscious even though his eyes are closed. His head is bandaged. “I’ll save you a pickle.”

“You can have all the pickles,” Zemo grunts in return. He doesn’t need pickles; he needs a relaxing bath and peace and quiet to put his thoughts in order. He’s sitting on the bench with his back turned to both Hawkeye and the entryway to the cockpit area of the jet, and since there is just Rogers with him, he has removed his soaked mask. Having proper oxygen has ceased the dizziness, but he still feels sore and tired and in a very, very bad mood.

When Rogers finishes bandaging Zemo’s calf, he sits on the bench next to the German:

“You really are prone of getting stuck and in need of rescuing…” he jokes with a small smile, but Zemo merely scowls at him. His undercut is a mess, with the soaked blond hair plastered dramatically over his eyes now that it’s not combed. Rogers feels tempted to arrange Zemo’s hair, feel the contrast of soft strands and harsh shaved hair. “I was worried about you, Helmut… When Falcon said you fell-“

“I’m right here, please don’t get all sappy…” Hawkeye croaks from the stretcher on the floor: he might have his eyes closed, but he can still listen.

For the sake of annoying Hawkeye – and to make it clear, _solely for the sake of annoying Hawkeye_ , not because Baron Zemo is touched by Rogers’ concern and overzealousness, Zemo offers Rogers a tired smile:

“You do not need to worry, Steven. I can help myself… Still, I appreciate your care,” he says, and Rogers beams joy and Clint groans. He thinks about asking Rogers about the unnecessary/undeserved embrace, only to further mess up with Hawkeye… but a sudden nervousness takes over him, and all he can do is simply stare at Rogers with what he supposes to be a stupid look on his face.

Rogers keeps smiling, though. When the explosion was over and there were no more cracks tearing the ground, Falcon had shouted that Zemo had just pushed Hawkeye to safety and fallen into the abyss instead of the unconscious Avenger. Rogers had felt like his heart had dropped to his stomach and had rushed to Clint, thorn between helping his friend and looking for Zemo. Especially because there was only static on Zemo’s channel. Fortunately, Natasha had rushed to Hawkeye’s side and Thor had joined Rogers, and they both had tried to see the bottom of the crack. Rogers had then waited the longest minutes of his life, trying to think positive – like Zemo also has the super-soldier serum in his system – and keep his mind off catastrophic scenarios.

When Thor had finally returned with a wobbly, injured but otherwise alright Zemo, Rogers had felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Because he couldn’t afford to lose Zemo’s trust in him (again), he was part of the team even if he technically wasn’t, and had to be helped and cared for like he was an Avenger. Like he was family.

So Rogers had done the sensible thing and had hugged Baron Zemo, the super-villain in a somewhat bumpy rehab into goodness. And only when Rogers was holding the German in his arms did he realise it wasn’t appropriate because… he doesn’t know Zemo like he knows the rest of the team, they’re not even friends… or are they?

Now, that he’s staring at the German, soaked and miserable and looking at him with a tired smile and a strange glint in his eyes, he feels like hugging him again: Zemo deserves better than getting buried under an office building, being attacked by Doctor Doom, being chased by dinosaurs and falling into a crack – all while doing good deeds. Baron Zemo sure has one hell of a karma!

But there’s also this overwhelming fondness Rogers feels for Zemo every time the German makes something incredibly selfless and that nobody – namely Captain America – expected him to. Still, Rogers can’t quite explain why he feels like hugging Zemo again instead of simply patting his back and telling him he did well.

Yet instead of going for another hug, Rogers tries a different approach. Just for the sake of touching Zemo again… Rogers must be certainly a bit traumatized by having one particular non-official team-member getting in constant trouble… That must be it.

Zemo watches in surprise as Rogers leans slightly to him, raises a hand and gently brushes his soaked hair away from his eyes, combing it to its usual place.

And Rogers merely smiles nervously, because Zemo’s eyes are too beautiful to be covered by hair.

* * *

 

Back in the tower, Hawkeye is rushed to the Avengers’ little hospital. Rogers agrees to let Zemo go unscanned for further injury, and makes sure Iron Man orders F.R.I.D.A.Y. to stop cutting the hot water on Zemo’s shower and replace with it cold water.

This time, the AI cooperates, and after five minutes in the shower – Zemo is sore and can’t move as quickly as usual – with the hot water running, the German decides to try his luck and, for the first time since he’s been living in the Avengers Tower, he can enjoy a relaxing hot shower that's over five minutes.

The warm spray on his neck, shoulders and arms gradually eases the pain, though the water running down his side and hip, where he impacted on the water, hurts the badly bruised skin; the gash in his calf is almost closed, and in the morning he’ll have a scar, a faint bruise and no more muscle pain. Sighing with contentment, Zemo wraps his arms around himself for comfort and looks around the shower cabin filled with clouds of steam.

He remembers Rogers embracing him for no reason, both barbarically invading his personal space and pulling him with those strong arms against his large muscled chest… that Zemo has caught a glimpse of. Rogers is actually a nice warm surface to rest against and-

Zemo fumbles with the water taps, frowning, and closes the water. He opens the opaque glass doors of the shower cabin and steps outside abruptly, not even flinching with the soft difference of temperature from his hot shower to the comfortably AC-heated exterior. He snatches his towel from the rack and wraps it around his waist furiously, all remaining muscle pain momently forgotten.

* * *

 

Rogers wakes up earlier than usual – the sun isn’t even up yet. Even though he went to bed late, he had trouble sleeping again, and remembers talking to Zemo about hypnotherapy.

He should really give it a try…

After a bit of morning training in the gym and a quick shower, Rogers goes to the kitchen to make breakfast. The tower is silent, with all the other Avengers still asleep – they all were up until late because of Hawkeye, who had to be picked up by S.H.I.E.L.D. to go to a proper hospital with real medical care.

Somehow, Rogers isn’t surprised to find Zemo in the kitchen, assembling on the counter items from his stash in the pantry. The German is wearing civilian clothes again – black jeans and a black turtleneck – and the black balaclava Rogers prefers over the pink mask:

“How’s your leg?” Rogers asks in a way of saying good morning. Zemo stops what he’s doing to turn around and look at Rogers:

“Healed,” he replies quietly, then adds, out of politeness. “How is Hawkeye?”

“He has a minor head trauma. He went to a proper hospital, just to be safe,” Rogers smiles, delighted about Zemo’s concern for the injured Avenger. There, more proof that Baron Zemo is a good man!

But then Zemo frowns under the balaclava:

“The dryer is not working… I have a basket of damp laundry in my bedroom!”

“Thor said something about doing the laundry, last night… I guess nobody was there with him to supervise…” Rogers makes a face: great, the dryer is dead again and his laundry isn’t even done. “It’s always happening. Once Tony or Sam wake up, I’ll tell them.”

Zemo merely rolls his eyes in annoyance:

“If you give me the tools, I can fix it myself…” he complains. Tony Stark is no longer the only genius in that tower! Besides, now that Zemo (temporarily) lives there, he can do more interesting things than house-keeping: like fixing stuff.

That makes Rogers laugh, and it’s too early in the morning to hear that crystalline sound, which makes Zemo grunt:

“Right, I guess I can sneak into Tony’s workshop and bring you one of the toolboxes. But first…” And Rogers intends to cross the kitchen, walk past Zemo and reach the fridge. “I need breakfast.”

Zemo tilts his head, then turns his back and returns to his previous task of gathering food from his stash on the counter:

“Do you want a German breakfast?” he asks quietly. He doesn’t even know why he’s offering. Must be because he was raised with manners. Super-villain, but very polite. Or maybe he just wants to hurry up Rogers’ breakfast, so that Captain America can get him a toolbox to fix the broken dryer: Baron Zemo will not hang his laundry by the window like a peasant, no way.

Rogers is so taken aback he only nods as an answer – but Zemo has his back turned to him, so he doesn’t see it. That’s very kind of Zemo, to share a piece of his culture with Rogers, who fears he might get overexcited about such a simple thing like breakfast.

Truth is that the Avengers are a family of friends… but when it comes to food, they’re very selfish bastards, unwilling to share and always on the lookout for a chance to get more food for themselves – be it by raiding the common fridge and pantry, or by ninja-attacks on each other’s stashes. However, Zemo’s stash is safe because he’s not an Avenger, and Captain America is going to be the first to try something from the German’s stash.

With a quite ungraceful and gigantic stride, Rogers is standing next to Zemo, looking at the food on the countertop like he has never seen food before:

“So… what can I do to help?” he asks, maybe a bit too eagerly, but it earns him a soft chuckle.

It’s strange to cook with Zemo: like in fighting, in cooking the German is methodical, calculated and precise; while two eggs are boiling, he and Rogers slice a variety of breads – and the slices must all be the same size and perfectly regular; the slices are then homogeneously covered with jam, or used to make sandwiches with different cold meats, cheeses and smoked herring (that has Rogers narrowing his eyes in horror); while Rogers peels the boiled eggs, Zemo quickly makes a fruit salad with what Rogers presumes to be yogurt. The German leaves no trail of culinary mayhem – and polices Rogers to make sure no chaos ensues. But it’s not difficult for the two of them to work smoothly together, and unlike when the Avengers venture in the kitchen, there is no accidental bumping on each other and shouting and food flying around to where it shouldn't be.

Shortly after, a large part of the kitchen isle is covered by dishes with sandwiches, toasts with jam, cheeses, cold meats, smoked herring, boiled eggs and a large bowl of fruit salad. It’s a lot of food, but Captain America and Baron Zemo, with the super-soldier serum in their systems, need to eat more than the average man.

Rogers feels a bit stupid, because the only German foods he’s familiar with are the ones loved by every American: pickles, Sauerkraut and Wurst, that assembled together make a delicious hot-dog. These familiar items are not among the various foods available, and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do now: does the fruit salad come first?, or one of the cheeses?, and is the smoked fish… mandatory…?

“Is there… is there a specific order to eat?” Rogers finally asks, ashamed of his lack of knowledge when it comes to German food.

Zemo, sitting next to him on one of the high stools of the kitchen isle, removes his balaclava and starts to roll a large slice of salami:

“Of course not, fool…” he replies, then hands the roll of salami to Rogers. “But I advise you to eat all the salted, spicy and bitter things before moving on to the jams and fruit. Also, the eggs are good to clean your palate.”

It’s just breakfast. It’s not some piece of fancy hi-tech. Rogers can totally do this. He nods, takes the roll of salami and gives it a small, tentative bite. Then moves on to other cold meats, and to the various cheeses, and to the sandwiches, and to a boiled egg, and to the toasts with jam, and to the fruit salad.

He’ll try the smoked herring at some other time… like… when it’s not breakfast.

Rogers likes this German breakfast, with so many new flavours and textures. Zemo tells him a bit about the places from where the cold meats and cheeses come from and that the yogurt in the fruit salad is actually another type of cheese – Quark. But besides the food, Rogers enjoys the company – unlike the Avengers, Zemo doesn’t shout, doesn’t speak with his mouth full, doesn’t gesticulate and spills food everywhere, doesn’t try to get more food than he needs and doesn’t demand to watch cartoons on the TV.

This is actually the first breakfast Rogers takes with the TV off (with the exception of those few times the TV was broken). And he likes it, likes the quiet and soft tone of Zemo’s accented voice. They take their time to eat, talking about this and that, and Zemo is relaxed and smiles and gives an occasional chuckle; just like when they’re sword fighting.

Rogers has the comforting feeling that he’s finally getting to know the man he wants as a friend and fellow super-hero. These aren’t Captain America and Baron Zemo going over procedures of a super-villain rehabilitation: these are simply Steve Rogers and Helmut Zemo having breakfast together, currently talking about music, flashing smiles at each other.

* * *

 

The last thing Iron Man expected to find when stepping in the laundry room was Baron Zemo kneeling next to a gutted dryer, using one of his toolboxes and with Captain America standing behind him while pointing a flash-light at where Zemo is working:

“Right…” Iron Man says, making both Rogers and Zemo look up from the dryer to him, standing at the doorway with an embarrassingly big pile of laundry – on top of it, his Captain America pyjamas. Surprisingly, Zemo isn’t wearing his mask. He’s wearing a black balaclava that exposes his eyes, and are they a really dark blue or actual violet?

“The motor and blower are reduced to ash, and the drum and heating duct have partially melted,” Zemo announces, and to reinforce his point shows his hands, smudged with black ashes. “Are there spare pieces?”

“Thor…” Tony narrows his eyes and looks away from the dead dryer, Zemo and Rogers to the place where the dryer should be: the wall is blackened, like a very bad short-circuit with a small fire happened. “Damn… Forget that one, Zemo; I’ll get a new dryer delivered to the tower by lunch…”

* * *

 

When Tony, Rogers and Zemo return to the living quarters, the remaining Avengers are already in the kitchen, still half-asleep and grunting at each other over bowls of cereal and toasts. However, Thor is missing.

Peeking over his laundry pile, Tony looks around with a frown:

“Where’s Thor? He killed the dryer again!” A chorus of complains is heard: seems Rogers isn’t the only one who hasn’t done his laundry overnight:

“Do you have a hair-dryer?” Zemo asks Black Widow, who scowls at him, hiding the surprise of seeing him without his usual attire:

“You do realise you can’t dry your laundry with a hair-dryer, right?” she asks:

“Well… with time and patience…” Sam adopts a thoughtful expression.

The debate about damp laundry and hair-dryers is cut short as Thor gingerly makes his way into the kitchen, wearing a t-shirt, jeans and trainers – seems the Damp Laundry Problem has affected him too. Guilt is written all over his Asgardian face, and when the Avengers – and Baron Zemo – look at him reprovingly, he can’t sustain the collective glower and looks down, ashamed:

“This time I was sleepy and wanted the drying machine to hurry up…” he explains sheepishly, hoping everyone understands why he has over-powered the dryer.

* * *

 

The new dryer is delivered by lunch-time, and a sudden chaos of doing the laundry, eating and getting ready to go visit Hawkeye at the hospital takes over the Avengers Tower. Zemo, who enjoys peace and quiet, takes refuge in his bedroom. He’s guessing that he too will have to tag along to visit Barton in the hospital, and he’s not pleased.

Some time later, when someone – must be Rogers – knocks at his door, he sighs in annoyance and opens the door just enough to let his masked head pop out:

“Do I really have to go?” he asks with a hint of pleading not to, and hopes it’s enough to move Captain America, looking at him with a serious face and his arms crossed:

“Not now. The hospital only allows groups of four: Tony, the Hulk, Sam and Thor went to visit Clint at the hospital. Natasha had a briefing with S.H.I.E.L.D. and I’ll meet her at the hospital later, when the first group returns,” Rogers explains, and Zemo sighs in relief. “And you’re coming too.”

Zemo lets out an indignant grunt, but fine, he’ll go with Rogers. He’s about to retreat into his bedroom again when Rogers clears his throat and looks suddenly embarrassed:

“Also… I… I wanted to ask you something,” And Zemo opens the door completely, crosses his arms and leans on the doorframe. “That hypnotherapy thing…”

Zemo raises a thin angled eyebrow under his mask. There it is, Captain America seeking Baron Zemo’s help. Who would say? However, Zemo isn’t smug about it anymore:

“Are you sure? Your friends are not here to help you…” he states. Because Rogers is fully aware that, if Zemo wants to do something, he will. Right?

Rogers nods, a determined look on his face:

“I trust you, Helmut.”

And those words mean a lot more to Zemo than he’s willing to admit.

* * *

 

With the curtains closed, Rogers’ bedroom is left in a comfortable dimness that is not too dark and not too bright. The door is wide-open: in case the other Avengers return earlier than expected, they’ll see Rogers is fine and won’t freak out.

Rogers is lying on his back, on the bed, with his hands crossed over his chest and his head slightly turned to his right, to look at Zemo, sitting on a stool he brought from the kitchen isle and leafing through a thick and visibly worn leather-clad black notebook. He’s sitting with his legs crossed, using his knee to support the notebook and holding a black fountain pen.

Zemo, in his black civilian clothes and combat boots, unmasked, and with his fancy notebook and pen, sure looks like the stereotypical crazy-German-doctor-that-means-no-good, and the other Avengers won’t be happy about this hypnotherapy episode if they know about it…

The German finally finds an empty page, and writes down the date:

“Full name,” he requests, startling Rogers a bit. Captain America hesitates for a moment, wondering if the bureaucracy is really needed. The fact that Zemo’s violet eyes, so hard and cold, are looking at him like he’s a particularly interesting object of study, doesn’t help him to relax either. Zemo seems to understand Rogers’ reticence, and sighs patiently. “I might not look like it, but I am a professional. I need your data to know what method will be best for you. You said you trust me, Steven; prove it.”

Rogers grimaces at the polite scolding, and looks away from Zemo, to the ceiling:

“Steven Grant Rogers…” he finally replies, and hears the scratching of the fountain pen’s nib on the notebook’s paper:

“Date of birth.”

“July 4, 1920…” Rogers grimaces again, but at least Zemo was polite and didn’t ask him directly how old he is. There’s again the scratching of paper, followed by a pause. Then Zemo speaks, his voice low and soft and Rogers almost doesn’t hear him:

“You are older than me.”

Rogers looks at him again, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline in confusion. Zemo is looking down at his notebook, thoughtful, like he’s weighting the consequences of sharing another tidbit of his life with Captain America. Then he sighs and his shoulders sag slightly:

“I was born in 1927,” he shares, looking up to Rogers. And his eyes look much older than his face and body, making Captain America frown with a sudden realisation:

“You were young. Too young,” Rogers reasons with a somewhat strangled voice: Zemo had been too young to see the face of war, too young to lose his father. But come to think of it, is there a proper age for any of that?

Zemo shakes his head; now it’s no time for chit-chat, nor he feels comfortable to talk about his past with _Captain America_. He moistens his lips and clears his throat, looking down at his notebook again:

“What keeps you from sleeping?”

There is a slight hesitation, until Rogers sighs in defeat and looks up at the ceiling again:

“A bit of everything… My parents… My youth… The War, the friends I’ve lost…” For a brief moment, Rogers’ face is the embodiment of pain, until he pushes the feeling to the back of his mind again. “Waking up from the ice… the Avengers…”

And Rogers leaves unsaid ‘You…’ and a quick glance at Zemo, to let him reassured that Rogers does care about him and this whole rehab for real.

“I need you to elaborate, Steven…” Zemo complains; since he was asked a session of therapy, then he’s doing a good job out of it! The enjoyment of torturing Rogers with his ghosts and gloat over his suffering feels secondary.

Rogers clenches his jaw and balls his hands into fists. He doesn’t like to talk about his life before the Avengers. He knows little of Zemo’s past, and yet is putting himself in the position of letting the German know things not even the Avengers – his team, his makeshift family – know about him… and it just doesn’t feel right. It’s not fair for his friends.

Zemo sees all the reluctance and can only wonder why Rogers wants help while refusing to be helped. But isn’t he doing the exact same thing to Captain America? Refusing to be helped, though pretending the opposite?

Zemo massages his temples and decides to try another approach:

“I need to know, to treat you. Otherwise, I cannot help you. Let us make a deal, Steven: you tell me what I need to know-“ And this totally didn’t sound like legit interrogation, making Zemo cringe internally at his choice of words. “-and, since you liked the German breakfast so much… I shall make you a German lunch.”

There is a moment of incredulous silence as Zemo’s ridiculous bargain hangs in the air and Rogers looks at him with narrowed eyes.

When Rogers finally speaks, he can’t hold back a huge, silly grin:

“Did you just… tried to buy me with food, Helmut?” Right, put like that sounds even worse. Zemo feels suddenly ashamed of his stupid initiative, and is looking for an escape when Rogers bursts out laughing. “Lucky you, I’m cheap!”

Zemo must narrow his eyes at that, because Rogers… he doesn’t look cheap. Cheap in the sense of peasant. Even though he is a peasant. He doesn’t look like one, though. No, no way; Rogers’ features are all very noble, his body is sculpted to a level of perfection a mere peasant simply can’t achieve, his gait and presence are almost royal, he could definitely wear an armour and be knighted and fight actual dragons – and can Rogers ride on horseback? Because he looks noble enough to ride on-

“Elaborate, Steven…” the German grunts, breaking his train of thought before the Episode Of The Sinful T-Shirt returns from the darkest, farthest corner of his mind to haunt him again.

Rogers sighs, but he looks much more relaxed now. He can trust Zemo. Looking up to the ceiling again, Captain America summarizes what keeps him from sleeping:

“My parents were Irish immigrants; they were poor in Ireland and came here to have a better life… but… it kinda went the opposite way. My dad fought in the First War and because he was gassed, he came home with his health… deteriorated. My mom was prone to pneumonia… and I wasn’t very healthy, either,” He pauses, smiling bitterly. His memories are slightly blurred now, of an impoverished family and a constant struggle against illness. “My dad died when I was a kid, from… complications because of the gas, and my mom died of pneumonia when I was eighteen…”

Zemo notes down it all, frowning slightly. He had no idea Captain America had been… that poor and so frail. Also, the fact that Rogers lost his family, like Zemo, gives the German an unwanted feeling of closeness towards his greatest enemy:

“I like to think they’d have been proud of me, for becoming Captain America,” Rogers’ smile dies. “I lost many friends in the war… but the one who costed me most was Bucky. I… it was my fault, I can’t forgive myself for what happened…”

The German grimaces: he’s familiar with the Bucky/Winter Soldier subject, having used it before to make Rogers lead him to Heinrich Zemo’s secret lab, in his castle in Belarus. He wonders if Rogers holds a grudge against _him_ because of Bucky, even if he wasn’t involved, or if Captain America holds it all against Heinrich Zemo:

“And… when I froze… I still dream about it, sometimes: about the water filling my lungs, being unable to breathe, sinking further and further, feeling the ice crawl from the inside to the outside… being conscious during the whole time, watching the sunlight above the water fade away…” Rogers clenches his jaw and crosses his arms over his chest, protectively. “And the whole world changed, the people I knew and loved… died… I never made it to my first date…” He pauses, then turns his head slightly to look at Zemo, taking notes of what he’s telling. “When I was taken from the ice, I felt so lost… so… so inadequate… Everything had changed, but I felt like I was stuck in the limbo: living in the future while looking back and screaming for the past… Sometimes I still feel like I don’t belong here…”

Another thing Zemo could relate to in a certain level, the German concludes in dismay. He’s a super-villain and part-time therapist: he should not be feeling _empathy_ towards Captain America:

“I’m scared it happens again, that I’m unable to protect my friends and that I’ll lose them like I lost Bucky…” Rogers finally concludes with a sigh. And he doesn’t want to admit it, but… it felt _good_ to say all that aloud, take the weight from his chest even if just for a bit. He knows it all will keep gnawing at him, though.

Still, he can’t help but feel guilty that he has shared more with Baron Zemo than with the Avengers.

Zemo reads quickly his notes, writes down some key-words about Rogers’ problem and then closes his notebook, putting it and the fountain pen aside. He uncrosses his legs and straightens his back:

“My mother was fragile, too. It was a miracle she survived childbirth…” Zemo shares, not sure of why he does it: simply for the sake of saying something or a small treat for Rogers, for having told all of that?

Rogers looks at him, in a way Zemo doesn’t know what it means. He hates when Rogers does it, when he can’t read Captain America… He sighs in annoyance, and proceeds to explain the treatment:

“Very well… I will induce you in a series of visualizations. Think of it as an obstacle field, in which the obstacles are your issues, and across the field is your reward: sleep. I will guide you, to make you overcome the obstacles…” Zemo raises an eyebrow. “But you must not resist me, otherwise we will be simply wasting time. You will be fully conscious during the entire procedure, and you can stop it if you want.”

Rogers nods; sounds relatively simple and it doesn’t seem to be a trap to some evil plan. Zemo has just said he would be conscious and able to stop the hypnosis, and Rogers trusts him.

But a hologram of Black Widow pops up from the Avengers ID card on Rogers’ bedside table: she’s not amused and reminds Captain America that the other Avengers have left and that he and Zemo should already be at the hospital to visit Hawkeye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opinions, anyone?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly guys, I haven't been so inspired to write in such a long time and I feel so good typing this all down and updating in such a short span of time! I feel unstoppable! ;-;  
> And that's all thanks to your support! Thank you all so much!!

For the next days, the Avengers are extremely busy: there are missions, there are briefings, there are more missions, and even more missions...

There is no time for German lunches and for hypnotherapy sessions. To be fair, Baron Zemo doesn’t have time for anything: between going on missions with the Avengers and being left alone in the Aven-Jet during briefings and conference presses – because he doesn’t want to be on the TV or in newspapers; Falcon’s mother’s blog, Doctor Doom knowing his location, the attack on the A.I.M. base and the random people in the street filming with their mobiles are enough – he barely has time to eat proper food, rest, read, listen to music, be in touch with his relatives, train with Rogers…

Who knew being a super-hero was this busy??

Zemo feels like he doesn’t even have time to properly follow his plan: the Avengers seem to have buried the hatchet and Rogers… well, they haven’t have much time together. Though there are intense exchanges of bickering between the Avengers and Zemo, the German can’t find a way to sneakily turn them against each other; they don’t even argue about his presence anymore! And the team of super-heroes no longer looks at him like a mighty super-villain: they find him merely… annoying.

Hawkeye has the cheek to address Zemo as _Baron Sassy_.

Iron Man sometimes grudgingly discusses Kang’s technology with Zemo.

Falcon has asked Zemo to read one of his college papers and give him a review.

The Hulk has shyly asked Zemo to try one of the Lebkuchen the German was snacking.

Thor still wants to play video-games with Zemo – and the German has lost the power of refusing things to the Norse god.

Only Black Widow is still wary of the German, though she’s polite towards him.

In conclusion, this is one big fail, and Zemo just wants to curl up in a corner and flail his arms and legs and throw a royal tantrum and scream and _this is not fair and why is his brilliant plan backfiring????????_

However, the other super-heroes still don’t like Zemo, and whenever they find the Avengers – and Zemo – in the battlefield, voice their opinions on the subject.

* * *

 

Defeating M.O.D.O.K. asks for a dinner of shoarma – not that Zemo is enthusiastic about it…

Yet here is Baron Zemo, sitting at a round table at Iron Man’s favourite shoarma place, between Thor and Captain America and feeling a headache approaching if the Hulk keeps laughing like that. Rogers and Tony are going over the recent battle, Thor is in a heated argument with Falcon about the supremacy of ketchup, Natasha and Clint are talking quietly between them and the Hulk is simply being a source of noise pollution.

Then a little girl comes over. She must be around five years-old, with big blue eyes, an even bigger smile, a long blonde braid and a pink dress. By the way she approaches the Avengers, Zemo can tell the little girl is the supreme leader of her kindergarten.

She walks straight up to Hawkeye and stretches her arms to him:

“Can I hug you?” she squeals, and an entire team of tough super-heroes melts before so much adorableness. Hawkeye beams joy, and he’s about to go down on his knees and hug the little girl when Zemo rolls his eyes and stands up from his chair:

“No,” he declares, making all the heroes and the little girl look up at him. The smiles are gone. He crouches near the girl, to be at her level, and tilts his head. “Where are your parents?”

The indisputable queen of the kindergarten looks away from this new figure of authority and sheepishly points at a secluded booth by the corner, where a couple is attentively looking at their mobiles, unaware that their daughter wandered off.

Zemo shakes his head disapprovingly and leads the young girl back to her parents. From their table, the Avengers watch with slight amusement as the German scolds the couple, pointing a threatening index finger at them and their mobiles and then making motions of smashing (that he learned from the Hulk).

When he returns, the Avengers are looking at him curiously:

“Ok, since when am I not allowed to get free hugs?” Hawkeye finally complains:

“You clearly know nothing about children! You cannot let a child think they can hug complete strangers: what if they hug the _wrong_ stranger?” Zemo retorts, but Hawkeye merely shrugs:

“Yeah, that makes sense… but I’m not some random dude, I’m an Avenger! The kid probably knew it and-“

“But Helmut’s right, it’s dangerous if you let a kid think it’s okay to hug people they don’t know in the street…” Rogers intervenes, and looks at the secluded booth. “Her parents didn’t even notice she wandered off, did they?”

“No,” Zemo grunts, clearly upset about the couple’s carelessness about their kid.

Rogers wonders why Zemo can’t understand he, too, was victim of bad parenting.

* * *

 

It’s still early when the Avengers return to the Tower, and after showering and getting in more comfortable clothes, the heroes gather in the living room for a competitive session of karaoke.

Rogers, however, isn’t fond of karaoke and excuses himself out of the singing contest. He feels a bit down, mostly because… he doesn’t feel like being with his team right now. The Avengers are his friends, his family… but tonight Rogers is just tired and doesn’t want to deal with their bickering and shouting and excitement – and this makes him wonder whether he’s a bad friend or not.

Especially because Rogers doesn’t want to be alone. He wants company… just not the Avengers’ company. So he gets a pencil, rubber and sketchbook from his bedroom and goes to knock at Zemo’s bedroom door, not even sure of what he’s doing.

The German’s head, covered with the balaclava, pops out:

“Yes, Steven?” he asks, mildly surprised to find Rogers at his door. But he’s probably there to recruit him to that karaoke nonsense. “I am not going to sing…”

“Not here for that…” Rogers smiles nervously, and he suddenly feels extremely ridiculous. “Uh… I was going to draw… very peacefully and quietly… and…”

It’s always a delightful sight to watch Captain America stammering. It’s also somewhat endearing, and Zemo can’t help a smile. The fact that Rogers is explicitly looking for company other than the Avengers’ reassures Zemo that his plan might still work, while at the same time making him feel… oddly elated. Special, almost.

Someone finds his company worthy, and pleasant, and is looking for it. Someone that happens to be his greatest enemy…

Zemo shakes his head and lets Rogers in.

Captain America is aware he might look a bit too eager as he walks in the room and he just can’t stop smiling. Zemo closes the door behind him and walks back to the bed, where he lies on his stomach and opens a book he was reading:

“Don’t just stand there, Steven…” the German says casually, pulling off his balaclava while looking down at his book. He fears that, if he looks at Rogers, he’ll burst out laughing in a very undignified way – because the situation is hilarious: this is the Avengers Tower, Steve Rogers is an Avenger… and he’s clearly uneasy under his own roof.

Rogers toes off his trainers, and after doing that he has no idea of what to do next. He wants quiet company – Zemo can give him that… but this much quietude is somewhat… daunting? Or maybe Rogers is just being stupid, fearing that the last busy weeks might have erased the little friendship between him and the German. Well, if such had happened… Rogers wouldn’t be in Zemo’s bedroom, and Zemo wouldn’t be unmasked, casually lying on his bed while reading, wearing a grey turtleneck that defines his muscled arms and shoulders and the curve of his back, and wearing black cargo pants that show how perfectly round and athletic his buttocks are and-

Captain America looks down, red as a tomato, and stumbles forwards, to the carpet next to the bed. He sits cross-legged on the carpet, leans his back against the bed, puts down his pencil and rubber next to him and looks for a blank page in his sketchbook.

Rogers blames his artistic vein for perceiving Zemo’s physique like that, and he’s very ashamed of it. Rogers has never looked at one of his friends like this, and it bothers him deeply. Because he and Zemo are friends, right? They totally are. And Zemo is a man. A beautiful man, but a man nonetheless. A man-friend is not to be looked at like that.

Rogers looks around, searching for inspiration, and sets his eyes on Zemo’s sword, inside its scabbard, strapped to the back of the throne-like chair at the desk. He picks up his pencil and starts to sketch.

Soon, Rogers forgets his thoughts on Zemo, focusing solely on the sketch. The only sounds in the bedroom are the quick and precise scratching of a sharp point of charcoal on paper and the slow turning of pages. And Rogers likes this, the quietude and silent companionship, and smiles as he sketches. A muffled argument still reaches Rogers’ ears, but it feels… distant, and Captain America barely notices it.

The constant sound of the pencil lures Zemo away from his reading, and the German casts an inquiring look at Rogers. From the bed, he can only see Rogers’ blond head, and driven by curiosity the German puts his book aside and crawls to the edge of the bed, so that he can look over Rogers’ shoulder and see the drawing.

Zemo is surprised to see a sketch of his sword and chair:

“Did you go to an art academy?” the German asks, genuinely interested. Rogers doesn’t look away from his sketch, but his smile increases and he starts adding details and shadings to the sketch:

“I was in art school for a year, after high school… But I didn’t have my parents anymore, had to work to pay my bills, and with my health… and then the war…” he explains. “I’ve always liked to draw.”

“You must have a natural talent,” Zemo concludes, and he can’t take his eyes off Rogers’ sketch. His sword and chair are basically coming to life in that piece of paper!

Being an educated man, Zemo has always liked art – even if he himself isn’t great at it – and admires those who mastered it. Captain America is one of those people, and as much as Zemo doesn’t want to admit it… he admires Rogers for his artistic skills.

Think of it, and since Zemo has been living in the tower, he has grown to admire Rogers for a whole lot of other skills: like his intellect, not on a genius-level like Zemo’s, but still pleasantly developed; and his fighting skills, that make him an interesting opponent (and a dedicated pupil when it comes to sword fighting); and his leadership skills, that combined with his integrity and humbleness make Captain America… bearable to obey to.

“I’d like to draw you, one of these days…” Rogers confesses quietly, distracting Zemo from his thoughts. The German puffs his chest with pride: of course Rogers would like to draw him, Baron Helmut Zemo the Thirteenth; what kind of artist wouldn’t like to draw such a physically perfect nobleman?

“Anytime, Steven,” Then Zemo drags himself closer to the edge of the bed and crosses his arms, resting his chin on top. “And that reminds me… I owe you a German lunch.”

“And a hypnotherapy session,” Rogers finishes the sketch and finally looks up, to Zemo. He’s momently surprised to find the German has approached him so much, and he rests his head against the bed as well to support his neck while he looks up at the German.

They spend an awkward moment simply staring at each other in silence, studying each other’s faces. Then, at some point, Rogers is caught by Zemo’s violet eyes, and he swears he has never seen something so… so tantalizing in his entire life: that pair of eyes, so cold as ice and hard as iron, looks suddenly very mysterious to Rogers and he wants to see what is there besides harshness – playfulness?, certainly, for Zemo has shown he has a sense of humour and can loosen up a bit; fragility?, surely, because Zemo has also shown that he has feelings, isn’t made of steel, hasn’t lost his heart; devotion?, of course… at least, towards his father… And what else? What else could be behind the coldness of those violet eyes?

And what can Rogers do to be allowed to see it? Because he wants to, badly.

Zemo moistens his lips nervously under Rogers’ intense stare. He wants to break eye-contact, but he can’t. Rogers’ eyes are captivating: blue and calm like a summer day, and there’s crystalline goodness there, a promise of protection and respect, of a safe harbour. It has been too long since Zemo has seen anything like it. Since he has been _looked at_ like that.

Like he is… cared for, and he’s interesting, and doesn’t need to constantly prove himself.

A roar startles them both, and Zemo hurriedly puts on his balaclava again while Rogers jumps to his feet. They rush to the door and run into the corridor, then to the living room, expecting to find an enemy attacking the other Avengers.

But turns out the Hulk is just celebrating his title of Best Karaoke Singer.

* * *

 

Spring brings rain, lots and lots of rain, and the criminals finally give the super-heroes a break.

Black Widow and Hawkeye, however, are called by S.H.I.E.L.D. to a job in Europe; Falcon starts a new semester; Tony takes the chance to develop some cool gadgetry for his friends; Thor takes the Hulk to Valhala, so that they can spar without breaking anything and having Iron Man scold them for the damage. This gives Baron Zemo the opportunity to cook the German lunch he promised Rogers in exchange for his cooperation.

He needs to go shopping first, and to ask Rogers for help because he can find his way around easy dishes… not typical German cuisine. Needless to say Captain America is immediately on board with the idea.

Zemo is not doing this because he has truly enjoyed sharing a bit of himself, of his German culture, with Rogers; nor because he misses spending some time alone with his greatest enemy. No way, Baron Zemo is simply an educated man and true to his word: if he has promised a lunch, he shall deliver a lunch. By no means he’s having fun cooking with Rogers, both of them quite untalented cookers when it comes to more complex dishes; he’s totally not appreciating watching Rogers stutter the recipes in his very basic German and then correct him; he’s also not delighted about telling Rogers of his Saxon blood and culture.

But after spending the whole morning in the kitchen, lunch is ready and the kitchen is still clean and nothing is broken. There are various foods from different parts of Germany – Leipzig included – and Zemo and Rogers can now sit at the kitchen isle and savour their hard work:

“You’re a great cook, for a baron…” Rogers teases, nudging Zemo on the arm when they sit side by side. The German grunts and retributes the gesture:

“A skill that might be of use… like, bribing Captain America…?” They laugh, enjoying themselves.

Iron Man shows up shortly after, only to narrow his eyes at the banquet of two and grumble something about peanut butter sandwiches being so much better than fancy food.

* * *

 

“You said you wanted to show me something, Shellhead?” Captain America comes in Tony’s lab, making his friend turn around on his stool by the workbench and leave aside the tools he was tinkering with. Tony crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow:

“Well… it was an excuse to get you away from Zemo…”

Rogers’ smile dies and he can’t believe Tony is about to nag him about Problem Zemo. He frowns and opens his mouth to tell his friend he doesn’t want to talk about this ever again, but Tony speaks first:

“I must admit Zemo has been a great asset to the team and I really appreciate his insight on Kang’s stuff… but aren’t you getting too close to him, Cap? I mean… just some months ago he wanted to kill you to avenge his father, and now you’re sharing lunch?”

A small, relieved sigh escapes Rogers’s lips. Seems Tony isn’t here to nag him, only to try to understand the development of Baron Zemo in the Avengers Tower. Rogers pulls a stool from a nearby workbench and moves it closer to Tony’s, so that they can sit shoulder to shoulder:

“I’ve talked with him about that. He forgave me,” Rogers shares, and Tony lets out a very undignified ‘pfffft!’:

“You believe that? Zemo has some serious daddy issues, I don’t think he’d just… forgive you!”

“Well, so far so good, don’t you think?” Rogers winks at him, making Tony groan and roll his eyes: Steve Rogers and his heart of gold… He shrugs, defeated:

“Yeah yeah, wipe that smile off your face, Capsicle!” Tony yelps as his friend gives him a playful – and maybe too strong – shove, nearly making him fall off the stool. Tony sticks his tongue out at Rogers and smooths his t-shirt. “But Steve… be careful. Zemo is not stupid, and he might be up to something.”

* * *

 

Zemo concludes he doesn’t like fighting petty criminals, even if it’s a group of twenty. It’s too easy, and he doesn’t even have the chance of unsheathing his sword:

“You’re gonna smash them, Zemo…” Falcon muses, smirking nonetheless.

The German has come up with a most glorious way of securing the pair of criminals assigned to him: instead of holding them by their scruffs, like the other Avengers do, Zemo has made the two criminals lie flat on their stomachs and now he’s standing on their backs, each booted foot pinning down a criminal. He’s not standing on them in a way that might be harmful for their ribcage and internal organs, but since he’s heavy, it’s extremely uncomfortable.

“Hey, Hulk does the smashing around here!” the Hulk complains, pointing to himself with a thumb, apparently forgotten he’s holding a criminal, who yelps as he’s lifted from the ground:

“Yes you do, green man. I am simply taking ‘the floor is lava’ to a whole new level…” And Zemo flexes his knees a little, digging his heels further in the men’s backs and earning pained grunts from them.

Hawkeye bursts out laughing; he must admit _sometimes_ Zemo is funny, and it’s hilarious to have in the same team one clueless elderly (Captain America) and another elderly who's into Internet culture (Zemo).

Thor looks down at the ground, his brow furrowed in confusion, trying to make sense of Zemo’s words about the ground being lava. Captain America is as confused as the Norse god, since the ground looks absolutely fine:

“You have no idea of what he’s talking about, right?” Tony teases Rogers, hovering in circles around the team and keeping an eye on the road, waiting for a police van to pick up the criminals.

Rogers pouts and looks at Zemo, waiting for an explanation of this whole ‘the floor is lava’ business.

The German snickers and picks up his mobile, intending to show Rogers the joke. Coincidentally, his mobile starts to vibrate in his hand, and Zemo is pleasantly surprised to see Klaus’ number on the screen – according to his calculations, by now is late in the night in Germany, and his cousin’s need for sleep is legendary:

“Just a moment,” Zemo tells the Avengers, then answers the call. “Spargeltarzan!”

Rogers startles a little when his earpiece – with F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice – starts to translate the conversation from Zemo’s German dialect to English. He looks around with wide eyes, and by the confused looks on his friends’ faces, it’s happening to all of them.

Only Iron Man keeps hovering innocently around them.

Furious, Rogers turns off his earpiece: disrespecting Zemo’s privacy once was enough, he doesn’t want to do it again. He looks around again, and is mortified to see only Thor has also turned off his earpiece; the other Avengers are listening, pretending not to.

Since Zemo is looking the other way, Captain America gesticulates angrily at his friends to turn off their earpieces. The Hulk reluctantly obeys, but Falcon, Black Widow, Hawkeye and Iron Man ignore him.

* * *

 

Holding on the back of Thor’s seat, Zemo wonders why the Avengers seem to be… upset. He noticed it the moment he finished the phone-call, but thought it was simply because dinner time was approaching and there were no signs of the police – just another hunger tantrum, Zemo is getting used to those.

But now they’re landing on the helipad of the tower, the heroes should be all cheerful about food… and they’re not. Rogers seems to be particularly mad at something, and he stomps off the jet with clenched fists.

“Is there a problem?” Zemo finally asks Thor as they leave the jet. The Norse god makes his guilty face and stays behind the others, waiting to be alone with Zemo in the helipad before answering the German:

“Well… suddenly, we all were able to understand your mother tongue as you were speaking on the mobile phone…” Thor explains sheepishly, and Zemo narrows his eyes. “The Captain immediately turned off his earpiece, and so did I… and then the Hulk… But I am afraid… your conversation was not private anymore.”

“Stark…” Zemo growls. But oh, this comes so in handy to his plan of destroying the Avengers! And Captain America…

Truth to be told, since the incident with Rogers and his phone-calls, Zemo was already expecting something like this would happen. He congratulates himself for being always one step ahead, and the fact that the Avengers have overheard his chat with his cousin doesn’t bother him – again, it’s nothing that could incriminate him.

Nobody needs to know Baron Zemo thinks this way.

The German sighs, feigning annoyance, and crosses his arms firmly over his chest:

“How am I supposed to trust you, if you do not trust me?” he snaps, and Thor nods understandingly. “Though I am not talking about you, Thor.”

“I am sure the Captain will talk some sense to Iron Man. Until then-“ And the Asgardian smiles and pats Zemo’s back amiably. It doesn’t startle the German anymore. “-you have my word that I will never spy on your private conversations, Helmut!”

They walk into the lift together, commenting the mission. Thor shares that he and the Hulk don’t like the average petty criminals either and Zemo comments it’s almost undignified that warriors of their calibre have to face such insignificant foes. Thor agrees, and tells Zemo about the wonders of Asgardian beasts – and much to Zemo’s dismay, seems the god is planning to show him his realm one of these days…

When they reach the living quarters, there is only Hawkeye making a sandwich in the kitchen. Thor makes a beeline for the fridge to get himself dinner as well, but Zemo makes his way towards Captain America’s bedroom.

He doesn’t care that the Avengers have listened to his conversation… but he admits he appreciates that Rogers and Thor have turned off their earpieces and given him privacy.

And that is why he’s about to reward Rogers. Logically. It’s not like Zemo wants to share more of his life with his greatest enemy. He knocks at the door of Rogers’ bedroom and waits a moment, until Rogers, still in his Captain America suit, opens the door.

His very angry face changes dramatically to very sad, and he opens his mouth to speak. Zemo simply shrugs:

“Thor told me,” he informs. “Thank you for not listening.”

This time Rogers smiles and steps aside, to let Zemo in. The German walks in Rogers’ bedroom, closing the door behind him, and pulls off his mask:

“I shall tell you what it was about: my cousin Anika is attending a conference here in New York, the next week, and some of the family have decided to… how do you say, tag along?” Rogers smiles widely, and Zemo can’t hold back a smile as well. “Since I am not allowed to wander alone, I was hoping you would come with me to meet them.”

Rogers’ heart leaps in his chest, like he has just won something extremely important that he had been fighting for in ages. He can barely believe Baron Zemo has just invited him to meet his family – well, the faction of his family that doesn’t want him dead.

Because Rogers would stay at a distance, if Zemo didn’t want him to go. He would have given Zemo space to be alone with his cousins.

But this? This is great! Maybe he could even invite them to the tower and… or maybe not, because the Avengers don’t deserve it. Zemo is specifically wanting to share with Rogers, not with anyone else.

Captain America is not a selfish man, but he can make an exception this time.

“I’d love to!” Rogers replies, smiling from ear to ear. “Who’s coming?”

Zemo chuckles, tilts his head to the side and leans on the wall behind him:

“Oh Steven, that would ruin the surprise!”

* * *

 

Rogers feels like an overexcited kid while he crosses Central Park with Zemo, to one of the coffee shops where his relatives are waiting to meet them. Rogers still can’t believe he’s been asked to come along, and he expects he’ll wake up in his bedroom at any moment.

It’s a beautiful morning: the rain has given a truce and the sun shines, even though the day is still chilly; since it’s a week day, there aren’t many people strolling in Central Park – the few they find, merely stop to look at Captain America and Baron Zemo, dressed in their respective suits, casually walking side by side.

Like they’re not enemies anymore.

Zemo doesn’t want to think about this today. Just for today. He simply wants to have a good time with his family: they’ll go insane once he shows up with Captain America, and Klaus will certainly enjoy to meet face to face the super-hero he told the f-word to.

There’s a group of twelve people gathered outside a coffee shop, all pale and with light eyes and hair, speaking loudly among themselves in a foreign language. Among the group of two middle-aged adults, two young adults, three teens, two pre-teens and two toddlers, there’s an old skinny man, towering above the others and supporting himself on an ornate cane. The skullish face of the man is serious and he looks around attentively, flinching his eyes a bit behind his large round glasses because of the sunlight.

But when the old man spots Zemo and Captain America, he smiles widely and points at Zemo with his cane:

“Rotzlöffel!” the old man roars, and Captain America is surprised that the feeble-looking man has such a powerful voice – though he has already met Klaus via mobile:

“Spargeltarzan!” Zemo salutes, waving a hand enthusiastically.

Upon noticing him, the teens and pre-teens come running towards Zemo, squealing excitedly and racing each other to see who gets to Cousin Helmut first; the toddlers make a clumsy yet decided approach without aid.

Captain America realises a compact mass of teens running in his direction is a bit… spooky.

Not for Zemo, however: the German, delighted, opens his arms to embrace all of his little cousins, who would have certainly knocked him over if only they were heavier. The first to get to him, a pre-teen girl, wraps her arms around his waist; she’s followed by the three teens, arriving practically at the same time and hugging Zemo around the middle of his chest and waist; the other pre-teen, a boy, also hugs Zemo around his waist, not caring about smashing his sister against their cousin; the two toddlers finally make it, and Zemo somehow manages to pick them up without breaking all the embraces.

And Captain America, looking at Zemo and his cousins with a smile, feels something warm crawl inside him. Zemo certainly loves his relatives, and they all love him back. So, somewhere in those icy violet eyes must be the warmth of love, and Rogers catches himself praying mentally that Zemo takes off his mask and looks at his cousins, so that Rogers can see what his eyes look like when there’s love in them.

One of the toddlers has hugged Zemo around the neck, squealing in delight, and Zemo kisses him on the forehead, through the mask. It takes Rogers’ breath away for some reason, and he feels like he’s melting, almost forgetting Baron Zemo is a super-villain.

The adults now approach, more orderly than the youngers but still visibly excited about meeting their cousin. The man pats him on the back and the women stand on the tips of their toes to kiss him on the cheeks, still through the mask. Then the old man approaches, smiling widely, and Zemo tilts his head:

“You would not dare! I cannot defend myself!” he laughs, and the old man laughs too and, with surprising agility – and, Rogers presumes, with strength – Klaus whacks Zemo on a thigh with his cane:

“Watch me!” Klaus gloats, visibly enjoying himself:

“Old fool!”

“Watch your tongue, fake young man!” And Klaus playfully taps Zemo’s head with his cane.

The Germans all laugh, happy like they haven’t been in a long time, and laugh harder when Zemo and Klaus exchange harmless insults and friendly bickering.

Then Zemo’s masked head turns sharply at Rogers:

“I brought a friend for you to meet,” he tells, even though Captain America is his sworn enemy. But today, Zemo doesn’t want to think about it.

And Rogers momently forgets to breathe again.

* * *

 

The coffee shop is cosy and the group takes the largest table by the window and orders coffee and some snacks for the younger ones.

Klaus, the oldest of the visiting Germans, is Zemo’s direct cousin from his mother’s side; Anika, who came to the conference, is Klaus’ daughter, one of the middle-aged adults; the other is her husband, Herbert; the two young adults are their daughters Eva and Astrid; one of the teens is Eva’s daughter, Magda, and the two twin toddlers, Gunter and Wilhelm, are also hers; the pre-teens are Astrid’s, Gisela and Dietmar; the two remaining teens, Alfred and Tjaden, have been authorized by their respective parents to tag along with their aunts.

Iron Man was right: it’s _a lot_ of cousins. And this is just a fraction of the family!

But Rogers already likes them, and little Wilhelm seems to have adopted him, sitting on his legs and embracing his neck tightly.

Only the toddlers don’t speak English, and Rogers is pleasantly surprised that they all speak English, even among themselves, so that Rogers isn’t left in the dark about what they’re talking about: Anika and Herbert’s jobs, the teens’ college, the pre-teens favourite movies, Klaus’ new car.

Magda, ‘the goth cousin’ as Zemo introduced her, has in the meantime explained Captain America that it’s nothing related to the barbaric tribes that invaded the Roman Empire. She wants to be a fashion designer but likes drawing things other than clothes, and while toddler Wilhelm has the exclusivity of Captain America’s hugs, Madga and Rogers talk about art.

Rogers casts a few furtive glances at Zemo, who hasn’t removed his mask for being in a public space but has rolled it up his nose bridge, exposing the lower half of his face. He smiles and laughs, talks to everyone, still has Gunter firmly hugging his neck and is arm-wrestling Tjaden. Once in a while, Zemo peppers the toddler in his arms with kisses and blows raspberries on his cheeks, making little Gunter squeal in delight and laugh and clap his hands.

Everytime Rogers feels like he’s melting, and Captain America is surprised that he’s still in a solid state:

“He’s always like that…” Madga shares with a smile. “Then when we’re older and go through the photo-album we’re like ‘Helmut… you’re kinda embarrassing…’ but it’s not really a complain,” She pauses, presses together her lips painted in black, then smiles again. “He can give us all piggy-back rides again!!”

The thought of Zemo giving a piggy-back ride to his cousins, old and new, just adds more to Rogers’ feeling of melting:

“He’s a lovable idiot, really. We’re all glad he left Hydra…” Magda proceeds, sighing, and leans forwards to rest a friendly hand on Rogers’ shoulder. “Thank you, Captain.”

Klaus, sitting next to Magda, nods at Rogers:

“Yes; thank you, Captain! I thought we’d lose him… like we lost Uncle Heinrich…” He frowns, then smiles again and shrugs. From the entire group, Klaus is the only one who speaks English without an accent and uses a lot of British expressions, and that has left Rogers wondering that he might have spent a lot of time in England. “And I apologise again, for having been that rude on the phone…”

“You were complaining I am embarrassing, Magda?” Zemo laughs, and Alfred replaces Tjaden in arm-wrestling. Gunter stills hugs Zemo tightly. “You are forgetting Klaus said the f-word to Captain America!”

They all laugh, Klaus rolls his eyes at Zemo and Rogers experiences a strange feeling of belonging, considering he has only met these people: yet they all know who he is, but instead of focusing solely on the ‘Captain America’ part, they have welcomed him and talk to him like he’s more than Captain America – like being Steve Rogers, the guy rehabbing their cousin into goodness, means more than just being a super-hero; though they are respectful and address to him as ‘Captain’, the way they talk and look at him, the way they share their stories and inside jokes with him, the fact that they are speaking English so that he can understand, the fact that one of Zemo’s youngest cousins has deemed him his new favourite adult to cuddle on… it all makes Rogers’ feel like he’s part of it. Like he’s part of the family.

He knows the Avengers don’t make Zemo feel like he’s part of them, and it breaks his heart: Zemo should have this exact feeling of belonging… and he doesn’t.

Suddenly, people start screaming outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, reviews, they're all important and make my day!! :D Please leave something for me!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you guys for all the support!  
> Well, it's Easter time and of course I had to write a little thing about it.  
> And also about feels and angst. :')

Of course Attuma has to be trying to take over New York City _right now_. Damned Atlantean couldn’t wait for Zemo’s family to leave, could he? No, he had to jump right into action and ruin the moment. And _of course_ Attuma had to start conquering Central Park before anything else…

Captain America has never been this upset about having something interrupted by a villain:

“Take them to safety, I’ll call the team,” he orders Zemo as they stand outside the coffee shop, assessing the situation. So much for not sharing Zemo’s family with the Avengers…

Zemo nods and helps his relatives and other civilians away from the coffee shop. For the time being, seems the Atlanteans are only in Central Park, so the city is still safe.

They exit the park, then Zemo switches on his earpiece and squeezes Herbert’s shoulders:

“You guard them with your life, young man,” he orders seriously, and the other man nods. Zemo then turns his back at them and starts running to the park again:

“Where are you going?” Klaus shouts, worry for his cousin written all over his face. Zemo glances behind briefly:

“To help Steven!” he replies and keeps running into the park while more and more people come from it screaming in fear.

When Zemo returns, the Avengers are battling the Atlanteans in a forested area of the park. Holding his sword in a hand and a laser pistol in the other, he joins the fray.   

It’s the first time Zemo puts his heart and soul into fighting on the same side with the Avengers. How dare these fishmen interrupt his happy reunion with his family?? How dare this ‘Tunna’ and his icthyofauna minions endanger Zemo’s relatives??

Zemo battles his way through Atlantean troops until he finally engages in singular combat with Attuma himself. And oh, Attuma feels the wrath of Baron Helmut Zemo and starts to consider invading New York City was a bad choice: Attuma has come for power, not for bone-cutting sword blows and incapacitating laser blasts.

And Zemo would have killed Attuma with a swift and expertly applied cut to the neck, if only Thor hadn’t hit Attuma with a thunder and pulled Zemo away from him:

“Calm down, Helmut! You know we do not take lives!” Thor reasons while dragging Zemo away from the unconscious Atlantean leader – not that Zemo makes it an easy job.

The Hulk is collecting scattered Atlantean troops fallen in battle and piling them, so that Hawkeye can hit them with a net-arrow and secure them until S.H.I.E.L.D. arrives to pick them up; Natasha is precisely contacting S.H.I.E.L.D.; Iron Man and Falcon are flying over the city to make sure the threat has been successfully neutralized; Clint has just found an intact package of chewing gum in one of his pockets and is very happy about it; Captain America… Captain America looks like he too wants to do more than just knocking out Attuma.

Thor eventually drags Zemo towards Rogers and, with an arm firmly wrapped around Zemo’s shoulders, places his other arm around Rogers’ shoulders:

“Friends, why are you so unsettled?” Thor asks quietly: when Rogers and Zemo left the tower that morning, Rogers had claimed they would go for a walk in Central Park – and some action would certainly make the walk much more enjoyable!

Natasha sees a group of people approaching, looking at broken trees, burnt patches of grass, at the pile of unconscious Atlanteans and at the super-heroes with wide eyes. They are so pale and have hair and eyes so light Natasha immediately presumes they must be from either Central or Northern Europe. Tourists, certainly:

“Cap, we have a bunch of curious civilians approaching…” she informs, glancing over her shoulder to look at Rogers, Thor and Zemo.

Rogers gives her a thumbs up, and Natasha frowns; Captain America _never_ allows civilians in the battlefield while the grounds haven’t been cleaned up and the enemies removed. Black Widow is about to share her thoughts with Hawkeye when the group – carrying two toddlers and led by a surprisingly energetic old man – rushes towards Zemo.

She remembers the phone call from some days ago, about one of Zemo’s cousins coming to New York and bringing along more relatives, wanting to know if there was a chance Zemo could meet them. The German hadn’t given an answer right then, had said he needed to talk to Rogers first.

And honestly, Natasha had expected Rogers would tell the Avengers about what he decided regarding Zemo and his family. He hadn’t said anything, so she had thought he would later, or that maybe the trip had been cancelled. Why hadn’t Rogers tell the Avengers about Zemo’s relatives? They are not involved with Hydra and seems Zemo will stick around for a while, so it would have been nice to invite them over to the tower, get to know them a bit.

“Wait, are those Zemolings???” Removing his sunglasses and narrowing his eyes, Hawkeye can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. Zemo is funny, understands memes and all that… but still, who would ever want to _hug_ him?

“What do you mean with «Zemolings»?” Iron Man asks in his earpiece, baffled. “Please, please tell me no magic shenanigan happened and cloned the guy…”

But Hawkeye can’t quite describe the scene of a handful of kids – they all look young, so they all must be kids – and some adults and a very tall skinny grandpa hugging Zemo and talking very loudly in that weird language of them.

“Must be the cousins from the phone call,” Natasha puts Iron Man at ease, and the man sighs loudly.

One Zemo is… bearable. More than one? Nope, no thank you.

The Avengers approach, curious, taking in the very awkward scene – who knew Zemo could be affectionate? Thor, standing right behind Zemo, stares attentively at all those new faces, trying to find similarities and imagine what the German looks like under the pink mask - he already knows of the violet eyes, and finds it strange that none of the cousins shares that trait with Zemo.

Then the group turns suddenly at Rogers, ignoring completely the other Avengers, and though they don’t hug him – except for a toddler, who makes it very clear he prefers to be in Captain America’s arms instead of his mother’s – they all ask very loudly and over each other, in English, if Rogers is fine.

Only after being reassured that both Zemo and Rogers are fine, do they notice the other Avengers, and they look at them with wide eyes, like they don’t quite believe what’s happening.

The old man exclaims something that has the other adults in the group scolding him in shock and reminding him there are children among them; on the other hand, the teens laugh, and the Avengers, whose earpieces translated what the old man said, try to wrap their minds around the fact that an apparently harmless grandpa just said a word that not even Hawkeye knew about.

Zemo sighs:

“You are embarrassing me, old fool…” he complains, looking discreetly at Rogers’ blushed face. Next to him, Magda shares very quietly with the teens and pre-teens that Thor is staring at them and he looks like a better version of Ensiferum’s frontman.

“So you’re all… Zemos…?” Hawkeye asks tentatively, counting quickly the group. Zemo frowns under his mask:

“I am the only Zemo left in the world…” he grunts, and the potty-mouthed grandpa nods:

“And I am a Zeulniz,” And he proceeds to enumerate all the other German nobility that makes up the family by marriage of his daughter and great-daughters, and the rest of the family that is in Germany, making Hawkeye regret having triggered an unrequited lesson on German lineages.

The good thing is: there is still only _one_ Zemo.

A moment of awkward silence follows. Hawkeye is very confused: these people are literally noble, and yet they look pretty average by the way they dress – there’s even a goth cousin! He was expecting Zemo’s family to be… like Zemo: arrogant, full of themselves, excessively proud, elitists and capricious.

Falcon’s voice in Black Widow’s earpiece breaks the silence:

“Uh, guys? There’s Atlanteans in the sewers!”

“Right… We’ll be there in a second,” She then smiles apologetically to the large group of Germans. “We’d love to invite you over to the Avengers Tower but… we still have some bad guys to deal with.”

“We need to be quick, before they spread through the entire city...” Rogers states, utterly disappointed: he was really hoping to stay a little longer with Zemo and his family. Little Wilhelm looks at him with a very serious face, like he caught Rogers’ thoughts:

“Atlanteans in the sewers… Ew…” Hawkeye sighs in resignation.

“The city is not safe, I will stay here with my family,” Zemo decides:

“Not up to you to do the ordering around here, Sock-Face,” the Hulk grunts, though he understands that the German wants to stay with his relatives and protect them:

“Helmut and Thor stay here; Hawkeye and Hulk, go help Iron Man and Falcon; Widow and I are going to evacuate the civilians in the affected areas,” Captain America commands, trying his best not to sound dry and upset. He looks sadly at the toddler comfortably sitting on his folded arm and hugging his neck, and sighs in defeat.

“Kommt, Willi. Onkel Steven muss gehen,” Coming to Rogers’ aid, Zemo approaches him and takes Wilhelm in his free arm. The toddler pouts, only to hurriedly hug Zemo’s neck the next moment.

Rogers doesn’t need the earpiece to translate him what Zemo said: he knows enough German to understand that Baron Zemo has just told little Wilhelm that _Uncle Steven_ needs to go. Rogers freezes, shocked, and he can’t tell if Zemo has officially declared him an uncle or if he’s simply baby-talking his younger cousin. Because Rogers can’t be part of the family, right? No, no he can’t. Because they are Zemos and Zeulnizes and whatnot and Rogers is just… he’s just _Rogers_. He doesn’t have fancy blue blood and he wasn’t born on a pile of gold and he’s not even German. So he cannot be… Onkel Steven.

Captain America feels like his brain is in temporary shut-down; he sees, hears, but doesn’t understand what’s happening. He sees Thor cheerfully present himself to Zemo’s cousins; sees Klaus nodding good-bye at him; sees little Wilhelm looking at him, perched on one of Zemo’s arms and resting his small head against his cousin’s large chest; sees Zemo look at him with his masked head slightly tilted, like he usually does when studying something of interest. He then feels like someone is tugging at his sleeve, and he looks away from the Germans to find Black Widow next to him, hurrying him to go.

Because heroes must save the world. Heroes don’t have time for families that aren’t other super-heroes.

* * *

 

Stepping out of the lift with Thor, Zemo isn’t surprised to find the Avengers gathered around the TV with snacks. They look exhausted and Hawkeye should take a shower before relaxing on the couch – he stinks to sewers. Iron Man, still in his armour and holding a large mug with coffee, looks at the new-arrived:

“So, how’s the family?” he asks, and chugs down all the coffee in one mighty gulp:

“Very well, thank you. Hopefully safe from evil fishmen, in the hotel…” Zemo grunts in response, arms firmly crossed in front of his chest:

“The House of Zeulniz is strong,” Thor informs, massaging his scalp; the toddlers had absolutely _loved_ his hair and Thor regrets not having followed Eva’s advice about making a ponytail…

The Hulk emerges from the open fridge, holding an ungodly amount of food on his arms. He has a huge, smug grin:

“Little Sock-Faces pulled your hair, Goldilocks?” the Hulk teases, and of course that the son of Odin shall not stand a green monster making fun of his suffering at the hands of two toddlers. With a battle-cry, Thor jumps at the Hulk, who drops his food to the floor and gladly accepts the fight.

Iron Man simply sighs and looks disappointedly at his empty mug, considering asking Thor to bring a magical Asgardian pint, one of those that can summon coffee or that never gets empty or-

“Where is Steven?” Zemo asks, and Iron Man looks up from his mug to see that the German has approached him, looking at him with his masked head slightly tilted. Tony doesn’t like it when Zemo does that: it’s slightly… ominous, and how weird is that some of the Avengers have personally met his relatives, but they still don’t know how he looks like under the mask?

“Upstairs, in the conference room. He’s filling some reports.”

* * *

 

Captain America likes to make the reports by hand, with a pen and paper. Still, every time he comes up here, Iron Man tries to convince him to use a computer, or dictate to F.R.I.D.A.Y. and let the AI broadcast it directly to Fury.

Rogers has almost written one and a half pages when he hears steps approaching him, and he looks at his left, to the door, to see Zemo walking up to him. The German, still carrying his weapons, is silent as he sits on the table next to Rogers and pulls the mask off:

“My cousins loved you. Willi found you particularly comfortable,” he states, and that makes Rogers smile sadly:

“I wish I could have stayed longer…” But if he had, what kind of leader would he be? Rogers has always been the type of commanding by giving the example; he has never liked to send people to a battlefield and stay behind. Even if that meant he would have to sacrifice something – like today, when fulfilling his duties has never felt so… hard. “How long are they staying?”

“Anika is attending the conference tomorrow, the whole day. Klaus will lead an expedition to as many museums as possible,” The German shrugs. “I thought about offering to stay with Gunter and Wilhelm, but I am not so sure about Stark enjoying having toddlers in his tower. Not that it would make a difference from the usual inhabitants…” The complaint/accusation/mockery makes Captain America snort and shake his head, like Zemo is a lost case. “And after tomorrow they will return to Germany in the morning.”

No more chances of meeting them in the next days, Rogers concludes disappointedly. At a loss of what to say, Captain America goes back to finishing the report.

Zemo, sitting on the table, watches Rogers in silence. He’s good at reading people and he’s becoming an expert when it comes to Rogers, but right now Captain America is making himself outrageously obvious: he’s sad and a bit angry, judging by the way his brows are slightly furrowed, and how is voice is a bit tight, and by the pressure he’s putting on his handwriting. But Zemo had noticed that Rogers has been like this since Attuma’s attack, and now he’s simply confirming his observations.

He thinks of fanning the flames a bit, make small talk about how the Avengers seem to be helpless without Rogers, causing him to drop whatever he’s doing to lead them to success. It’s another good opportunity to unfold his plan of turning the super-heroes against each other and isolate Rogers, destroy them all and avenge his father’s death.

Baron Zemo, however, is a perfectionist, and he is 100% sure a better, _perfect_ opportunity will present itself. And the more Rogers (and the Avengers) take a liking on him, the sweeter will be revenge. Zemo is _not happy_ that his family liked Rogers that much, and he _definitely did not_ go a little weak on the knees at how Rogers held Wilhelm on his arms, and _by no means_ has Zemo felt warm and a bit fuzzy inside at the sight of the small toddler picking up a new uncle just for himself. This is what he tells himself as he scoots closer to Rogers with a small, playful smile:

“It is a shame you were not there to see Thor having his hair pulled by the twins…” he tells while casually reaching out for his mobile in one of the pouches of his belt. Rogers raises his eyebrows and looks at Zemo, who then puts his mobile over the almost finished report. “Fortunately, I recorded the moment.”

Captain America casts Zemo a surprised look, then laughs full-heartedly. He laughs harder when Zemo presses the play button on the screen of his mobile and the video starts, with Thor innocently holding both toddlers, completely unaware of what would follow – which is a merciless attack on two fronts, with Gunter animatedly pulling his hair on the left and Wilhelm following his brother’s example on the right.

* * *

 

Zemo starts having flashbacks of seasonal mayhem as Easter approaches and the Avengers once again indulge in overly-decorating the tower for the occasion. The villains seem to enjoy Easter as much as they enjoy Christmas, because nothing pops up on F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s crime radar.

Zemo’s plan was to hide in his bedroom and wait until the festivities and ruckus were over.

Sadly for him, he’s sitting on a couch in the living room, next to Captain America and Iron Man, while a discussion about an Easter egg-hunt goes on and on. The German has no idea of how he ended up here instead of in the quietude of his bedroom, but he’s pretty sure it must have been Rogers and his sad puppy blue eyes…

“Thor is never planning an egg-hunt again. Ever,” Tony, raising his voice above his friends, starts to enumerate the main points they have gotten to so far; said points pop up in a neat list, in a hologram hovering above the coffee table between the couches. “Clint doesn’t have the maturity to have chocolate eggs nearby and not eat them.”

“Come on, it’s chocolate!!! Who can resist chocolate??!” Hawkeye throws his hands in the air, annoyed. Tony gives him his most unimpressed face, then proceeds:

“Sam is automatically excluded, since he’s going to spend Easter with his parents. Nat, you’re never planning an egg-hunt again, too…”

“Are you guys still upset about the lasers? Honestly…” Black Widow rolls her eyes; her friends are so lame, sometimes…

“I planned the egg-hunt last year, so this year it’s none of my business… which leaves us two choices: Cap and the Hulk,” Tony finally concludes, and a new argument arises: the Hulk doesn’t want to organise the hunt, because he doesn’t have the patience for it; nobody wants Captain America to do it, because he’ll surely turn it into a drill.

Zemo sighs annoyedly and looks outside: it’s raining and there are huge traffic jams snaking all across the city. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Thor announces his name in his booming voice:

“Helmut could do it!!” Thor suggests excitedly. “You could organise the hunt for the chocolate eggs, couldn’t you??”

Zemo immediately looks away from the window and to Thor, looking at him with an expectant smile.

 _Baron Zemo, organising an Easter egg-hunt???????????_ _For the Avengers?????????_ Outrageous! An insult! Dragging the noble name of Zemo through the mud! Social suicide!

“That’s… not a bad idea…!” Tony concedes, scratching his beard thoughtfully. Making a spy-proof egg-hunt is a hell of headache, why not give it to Baron Zemo?

“You can do it, right Helmut?” Rogers asks, as excited as Thor, and turns on his seat to face Zemo, looking at him with a huge smile on his lips and reflected on his eyes.

Those blue, beautiful eyes and that large, kind, captivating smile dancing on those lips.

Out of nowhere, the Episode Of The Sinful T-Shirt surfaces from the deepest and darkest corner of Zemo’s mind, and for a painfully long second, Zemo sees Rogers smiling at him just like that, kind and encouraging… wearing a translucid t-shirt that sticks to his muscled body just perfectly.

The German can’t quite register what he answers, but judging how the Avengers raise their fists and cheer about an egg-hunt, Zemo guesses whatever he said must have pleased them.

Must have pleased Rogers.

* * *

 

Baron Zemo has plenty of experience in planning egg-hunts for his little cousins. The experience, allied to his superior intellect, his military/strategical expertise and a promise from F.R.I.D.A.Y. (on the behalf of Rogers) about not giving out classified information, make Baron Zemo the ultimate Easter egg-hunt organiser, and the Avengers brace themselves: a mighty hunt is coming.

Zemo is very sure he’s doing this for the sake of his brilliant plan to destroy the Avengers and Captain America – and to troll the world’s best super-spies. He doesn’t want to make Rogers happy, doesn’t want to have Rogers smiling at him and talking about how proud he is of Zemo and, who knows, hug him again?

So, on the following days, Zemo starts to leave fake clues – because Hawkeye and Black Widow will keep an eye on him, and will probably try to cheat. He leaves the misinformation (a note saying «If you are reading this, you are an idiot») at suspicious places, at suspicious times – like leaving his bedroom around midnight to hide a piece of paper on top of the kitchen cupboard.

By the way Hawkeye and Black Widow grimace at him, they’re falling for it.

When the time comes to leave in place the real clues, Zemo does it discreetly in plain sight, at unsuspicious times: littering the tower with notes and small chocolate eggs while the Avengers are busy with their personal affairs; hide the great prize when everyone is watching TV, convinced he’s simply having a shower and will join them later.

Easter morning arrives to the Avengers Tower with chaos and ruckus and Baron Zemo sitting at the kitchen isle with a book and breakfast. But before he can start to eat, the super-heroes, divided in pairs (Team Black Hawk, Team Smash and Team Iron Cap) materialize in the living room, waiting for the traditional reading of the rules and official start of the hunt:

“There are twenty clues hidden throughout the tower,” Zemo starts to explain, visibly pleased with himself. “You must wait for order of arrival to read the clues and you cannot take shortcuts- do not look at me like that, Hulk! The closer you are to the end, you will find small encouraging gifts with the notes. The team finishing the hunt first wins,” He pauses, smiling widely under his pink mask, and he’s totally not having fun and he has never liked egg-hunts anyway. “You might want to start watching TV.”

Hawkeye is about to complain about that last statement when Rogers, clever as always and secretly a very competitive man, jumps to the couch, reaches for the remote… and finds a clue taped under the remote:

“Tony!!” Rogers calls, and Iron Man, with nothing but casual clothes, literally flies to the couch and lands on his face on the cushions next to Rogers. The other pairs rush to them, queueing by order of arrival (“Freaking Germans and their organisation!!”), and when Rogers and Tony finish reading the clue, they bolt to the gym. Shortly after, they are followed by Thor and the Hulk and then by Clint and Natasha.

Beaming, Zemo opens his book and rolls his mask up his nose bridge. He drinks a glass of water, then a glass of orange juice, and he’s about to pick up a toast with jam when Captain America and Iron Man dart into the lift. A moment later and Team Smash and Team Black Hawk race each other to get to the stairs first: the Hulk and Thor make it, but, side by side, they get stuck by their shoulders; laughing, Clint and Natasha squeeze themselves between their legs and leap down the stairs; with a roar, the Hulk, mindful of the forbidden shortcuts, steps back, holds Thor under his arm and jumps downstairs.

For about half an hour, Baron Zemo can eat breakfast in peace and quiet. The Avengers are too busy going up and down the tower, either by lift or stairs.

Team Iron Cap has everything to win: both Iron Man and Captain America are competitive, Tony Stark has the genius brains to decipher the more fancy clues and Steve Rogers knows Zemo well enough to understand what Zemo means with the more subjective clues.

Rogers feels obligated to win this egg-hunt. He’s usually not so competitive, but this year, because it was Zemo planning it, he feels like he (and Tony, since they’re a team) must win. Rogers wants Zemo to see he was up to the challenge, that he’s intelligent and bright, wants the German to look at him with admiration for winning the hunt (that is not an easy one, both Rogers and Tony admit), wants Zemo to simply smile at him and maybe… be proud of his victory?

In the conference room, taped under Thor’s chair, there’s a chocolate egg and a note that simply says «My right». That is the most enigmatic clue they’ve come across with, and while Tony puts the chocolate egg in one of the large pockets of Rogers’ military cargo pants – where they’re storing their loot of eggs found with the latest notes – Rogers reads the note repeatedly:

“What does he mean with that?” Iron Man asks, confused. “I must admit he was a genius by calling «jungle» to the flowerpots in the ground floor…” And Team Iron Cap laughs, remembering how they purposely took longer to leave the laundry room, letting everyone rush before them and go to the small lawn around the Tower and look for the next clue there. “… and you were even more brilliant for remembering he considers more than two flowers in the same flowerpot to be a jungle. But this?? What does this mean??”

Rogers squints his eyes, thinking, trying to see something odd about the note… Then he gasps, laughs, puts Thor’s chair down and grabs Tony’s wrist:

“My right!” he exclaims, like it’s obvious, and runs to the lift with Iron Man in tow.

Outside, the other Avengers are still looking for the clue on the lawn.

Rogers is itching to get to this last clue. He doesn’t remember ever being this excited, and he wishes the lift could go down faster. Tony keeps asking him what is it, but Rogers doesn’t answer.

Finally, they make it to the living quarters. Zemo is still sitting at the kitchen isle, reading, and Rogers, still towing Iron Man, walks directly to him. Noticing Team Iron Cap, Zemo puts down his book and looks at Rogers.

Baron Zemo has rolled down his mask, but Rogers can picture the German smiling at him in the same playful way as when showing him the video of Thor having his hair pulled, can imagine his violet eyes shining with amusement and the snub nose and neat undercut giving him a naughty look.

Without a word spoken or a gesture made, Zemo gives Rogers permission to slip a hand inside his right holster – instead of a gun, he’s carrying the last clue.

Rogers, unable to look at Zemo’s face, _swears_ he can feel Zemo’s heartbeat through the leather holster. For a moment, he stills his hand with the back pressed against the inside of the holster – against Zemo’s chest. The soft rising and falling of Zemo’s chest almost makes him forget of why he has a hand inside a super-villain’s holster, but the tips of his fingers brush paper, and he quickly – and a bit clumsily – picks out the last clue.

“How???” Tony demands, grinning and doing a little victory dance. “You know what? Nevermind: we’re gonna win this!!”

Rogers blushes a lot, but Zemo has gone back to reading – he, too, red as a tomato under his mask – and Tony is reading the last clue, so no one sees how he magically changed colour.

Captain America had noticed earlier that Zemo, who doesn’t walk around with his holsters in the tower, was wearing them. He’s convinced his observation skills come from his military training and even his passion for arts – by no means he stares at Zemo just for the sake of staring.

The prize – a gigantic chocolate egg – is inside the enclosed training area of the gym, and somehow Iron Man and Captain America aren’t surprised that Zemo set the bots to attack them, albeit in an easy mode that gave them no trouble to fight off unarmed. When they finally reach the prize, and because nobody is wearing the earpieces, Tony picks up his phone and makes a quick call to Hawkeye to let everyone know Team Iron Cap is the best at egg-hunting.

Moments later, the Avengers and Baron Zemo are sitting on the couches, feasting on chocolate eggs and talking about the hunt: Thor has thoroughly enjoyed it; the Hulk is pleasantly surprised by Zemo’s egg-hunting organising skills; Hawkeye is both mortified and amused about Zemo tricking him and Black Widow with fake clues before the real hunt began; Black Widow must confess the German has a very interesting way of thinking things through; Iron Man demands an explanation of why a flowerpot with more than two flowers is a jungle.

As for Rogers, he feels like he has just found heaven on earth: the Avengers seem to be finally accepting Zemo, and Zemo seems to be finally feeling at ease around the team, even if the pink mask is still on, rolled up his nose bridge, and the German covers his mouth with a hand while eating pieces of chocolate; but he’s sitting together with the Avengers and not alone at the kitchen isle, and he’s talking and snickering and visibly enjoying himself and the egg-hunt he planned for the Avengers.

Later, when Clint and Natasha go out for a walk, Tony goes to work a little in his lab and the Hulk and Thor settle in the couch for a movie night, Rogers follows Zemo to the bedrooms corridor with a question in mind:

“Why hiding the clue in your holster?” Captain America asks quietly, his back leaning against the wall. Zemo, with his arms crossed and shoulder against the closed door of his bedroom, shrugs:

“To test your powers of observation. I am not impressed with the Avengers’ performance…” the German replies, clearly smug about how much thought he put into the whole thing. Rogers smirks and cocks an eyebrow:

“How about _my_ powers of observation, Helmut?” Rogers puffs his chest proudly. “Because, let me tell you, 80% of those clues were little quirks of yours… Like calling jungle to the flowerpot, I remember you commenting that with me.”

“You clearly had an advantage…” Zemo agrees, because it’s so obvious that the German has only made things challenging and difficult for the Avengers, he has absolutely no fault that Captain America happens to know him a little better than the others.

Rogers has a strategic mind too, and now that he looks back at the hunt, he can tell Baron Zemo has pretty much manipulated the entire thing. He tilts his head, mimicking Zemo’s favourite thinking pose:

“You knew from the beginning my team was going to win it, didn’t you?”

“I have told you once that Tony Stark is no longer the only genius in this tower…” Zemo scratches the back of his neck and fine, he might have thought more about _testing Rogers’ powers of observation_ rather than the Avengers’…

Strictly to gather information for his glorious, brilliant plan of destroying the super-heroes. Not because he wants to… play with Rogers. Besides, Baron Zemo would have never taken such a gamble about having someone other than Rogers putting a hand inside his holster – can you imagine the disgrace, had it been the Hulk?

“It was fun,” Rogers says softly, smirk replaced by a kind smile. “I take it you’ve organised egg-hunts before?”

“Klaus and I have a competition running to decide who plans the best hunts. I am expecting your vote for me, Steven.”

“You’ve had it from the beginning,” Even though the words are spoken softly, Captain America implies that, so far, Zemo is corresponding to his expectations – which is excellent, and he wants the German to keep up the good work. Zemo understands what’s hiding behind the apparently harmless statement, and it’s enough to make him feel like something is clenching his heart.

Because he cannot disappoint his father… but he wouldn’t like to disappoint his cousins and Rogers. Not now, that he’s growing fond of his greatest enemy and that his family is fully reconciled with him.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Zemo allows himself to wonder just a little if the feeling of Rogers’ hand on his holster – on his chest, on his heart – would make the clenching disappear.

* * *

 

It’s an almost normal day at the Avengers Tower: Captain America and Iron Man are giving a press conference, Black Widow is off somewhere with S.H.I.E.L.D., it’s the Hulk’s day out to eat hot-dogs with his friend Spider-Man and Thor, Hawkeye and Falcon are playing a game.

It’s an _almost normal day_ because Baron Zemo is playing together with them. Also, it’s not a computer game – it’s Mikado, and the two fully-grown men, the Norse god and their younger companion, kneeling around the coffee table, are taking it very seriously. Hawkeye and Zemo are both good players, as for Thor… he’s still struggling with the concept that he can’t just pick up the blue stick like that…

Zemo is about to score two points more than Hawkeye when F.R.I.D.A.Y., announcing Ant-Man could use some help against a villain, startles him and makes him move the two sticks he was so carefully avoiding:

“At last, action!” Thor cheers, glad that something is happening to save him from this horrid game. Falcon jumps to his feet and runs to his bedroom to equip, while Hawkeye looks around:

“So… I guess the four of us are going…!” he concludes, and his eyes take longer to leave Zemo, who also stands up to go get his weapons and replace the black balaclava by the pink mask:

“Unless you want to stay, of course…” the German teases as he walks past Clint, who snorts:

“What, miss _Baron Sassy_ trying to ride a Sky-Cycle AND Ant-Man in need of rescue? No way!” Hawkeye gloats at the memory of Captain America trying to figure out his Sky-Cycle for the first time – and since both Rogers and Zemo must be the same age, the German is automatically doomed to fail. Yet just like the PlayStation Logic, the Sky-Cycle Logic is proved wrong – and Hawkeye is once again reminded that Baron Zemo, despite of his age, is as comfortable around technology as a fish in the sea.

Ant-Man is struggling with Taskmaster who, in the behalf of Justin Hammer, came to collect a new weapon Ant-Man created. The mercenary is winning the fight, but he hasn’t noticed the three Avengers and Baron Zemo landing outside the warehouse and quickly planning his defeat.

Yet the heroes can’t agree on a plan, so Zemo comes up with a cunning idea:

“Fools, he is a mercenary! If I walk in to talk numbers with him, he will listen. And while he does so…” Zemo points at Thor. “… you strike him, you…” He points at Hawkeye. “… shoot a net at him and you…” He finally points at Falcon. “… secure the perimeter and make sure he is alone.”

“What if he’s not alone?” Falcon asks, more to annoy Zemo rather than further developing the plan.

Zemo, unsheathing his sword, shrugs nonchalantly:

“One thing at a time, child.”

“Yeah Sam, take it easy! Grandpa Zemo has arthritis and can’t move that fast!” Hawkeye jokes and muffles his laughter with a hand, only to yelp when the German slaps him on the head. “You’re so done now, I’m gonna tell Cap you hit me!”

The German ignores him and, holding his sword with a hand, walks in the warehouse.

Ant-Man, pinned to the ground by a pile of crates that fell on him, is the first to notice Zemo approaching. Remembering New Year at the Avengers Tower, he widens his eyes in shock and forgets about Taskmaster’s sword hovering above his neck. The mercenary looks up from his practically defeated enemy to the new-arrived, and snorts:

“Baron Zemo! Where are your new friends, the Avengers?”

“I am here to talk about business, not about my personal life. Whatever you have been offered, I can triple it,” Zemo replies in a velvety voice that has Taskmaster perking up and Ant-Man yelling insults at him.

Slamming his shield on the back of Ant-Man’s head to knock him out, Taskmaster sheathes his sword and approaches Zemo:

“You don’t even know what the goods are, Baron,” Taskmaster states and looks around discreetly. But Zemo seems to be alone, and rumours say Zemo is indeed a wealthy man - whatever the side he stands on, now. The German shrugs and crosses his arms:

“I can quadruplicate your initial offer to include a small explanation, then…”

“It’s an honour to make business with you, Baron!” And Taskmaster reaches out to shake hands with Zemo, who holds the mercenary’s hand with a little bit of strength, just enough to keep him in place as Mjolnir comes flying from a smaller back door and hits Taskmaster on the head, immediately knocking him out. After Mjolnir comes a net-arrow that involves the unconscious mercenary in an electric force field.

Zemo drops Taskmaster and sheathes his own sword, snorting at how easy it was. He has never liked mercenaries, so defeating Taskmaster feels good, like satisfying a small personal caprice.  _Baron Zemo is not a goddamned hero, no no no_. He simply dislikes mercenaries.

And he must admit this was… fun. The banter, the simplicity of the mission…

And Rogers will surely look at him with pride…

The German shakes his head: his brilliant plan to defeat the Avengers and Captain America is running nicely and smoothly and that’s all that matters.

Clint and Thor walk in, beaming joy:

“We have defeated the villain!”

“Yeah, we can say Taskmaster just got royally trolled.”

Falcon joins them, confirming Taskmaster is alone, and they all proceed to rescue Ant-Man from the crates pinning him down. While Zemo and Thor walk up to Taskmaster to guard him and Falcon calls in the other Avengers, Hawkeye, a connoisseur of delicate medical procedures, slaps Ant-Man repeatedly across the face until the other man groans and regains consciousness.

Lang’s first thought is Zemo coming in to make business with Taskmaster – he startles awaken, only to find Hawkeye towering over him with a smug smile on his face:

“Zemo-“ Ant-Mant starts to protest, but Clint cuts him:

“Yeah, he’s a brat… but I like his sass.”

Ant-Man frowns, confused, and peeks over Hawkeye’s shoulder, to see Baron Zemo and Thor chatting animatedly near a defeated Taskmaster.

Right, so seems Baron Zemo isn’t a backstabbing bastard. Scrambling to his feet, Lang proceeds to tell how he’s been developing this new weapon, how Taskmaster somehow found out about it and how he cornered Lang in this warehouse to try to steal the weapon.

The weapon had been shrunken to fit inside Ant-Man’s belt pouch, and while the super-heroes and Zemo wait for the other Avengers, Lang decides to show his newest project:

“Ok, so… remember Dr. Spectrum and the whole Power Prism thing…?” Lang asks innocently, and Hawkeye rolls his eyes. “Yeah, so I think unleashing someone’s greatest fears and regrets is a good way to have the upper hand on a battle or check a bad guy’s progress into rehab,” The innocence is replaced by excitement as Ant-Man proceeds to explain how the weapon works and how he managed to replicate, though in a smaller scale, the properties of the Power Prism. “Do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. would be interested? Or even Stark??”

Falcon and Hawkeye look at Zemo, the resident villain rehabbing into goodness. Sam scratches his head:

“I don’t think Cap would be happy about it…” he states. Lang aims the weapon, that resembles a small assault-rifle, to a beam high in the ceiling, clearly not having heard what Falcon said and still going on about who might be interested in his newest project:

“Of course, it still needs some adjustments… Look, I’m aiming at the beam, but there’s something off about the sights and I’ll hit the ceiling,” And Ant-Man aims, talking animatedly. Hawkeye frowns:

“Uh… are you sure about firing a thing that isn’t working properly?” he points out the obvious, but it’s too late: Ant-Man presses the trigger and the weapon shoots a red beam to the ceiling, failing the intended target.

Lang, who has already tried shooting against foam to dissipate the beam, expects it to make a hole in the roof. However, the beam bounces away from the ceiling: it’s not a laser, so it can’t dig a hole through the steel sheet of the roof. Instead, it goes straight to the ground, where it bounces away again towards an unsuspecting Zemo, whose chatting with Thor has kept them both unaware of Ant-Man’s new project.

The beam, meant to be absorbed by the human body, disappears the moment it impacts with Zemo and sends him stumbling over Thor, and they both fall ungraciously on the ground, the Asgardian falling on his backside and Zemo face-first on his chest.

Hawkeye bursts out laughing and now he likes Ant-Man a bit more; Lang, however, widens his eyes in horror:

“Okay, that was not supposed to happen…” he mutters, looking down at the gun. “I haven’t tested the effects on someone, yet!!”

“He has a circuitry headband, I think it gives protection from psychic attacks,” Falcon says, fighting a fit of laughter at the sight of Baron Zemo falling over Thor in a most undignified way.

Ant-Man sighs in relief and allows himself to giggle.

Thor and Zemo, however, are not amused. They scramble to their feet and dust off their clothes, and while Thor is content to simply glower at Hawkeye, Falcon and Ant-Man, Zemo approaches them, pointing a threatening index finger at them and narrowing his eyes menacingly:

“You dare attack me after saving your pathetic life?” he hisses, walking straight to Lang, who hurriedly hides the gun incriminating him behind his back. Hawkeye, with tears streaming down his face for laughing so much, steps between the two and pats Zemo’s shoulder amiably:

“Come on Zemo, it was hilarious! I think you kind of yelped, it wasn't manly at all!!” Then he’s laughing again, and so is Falcon, and Ant-Man would be laughing too if only Zemo weren’t staring daggers at him. The German opens his mouth to yell at Lang and jab his chest with a finger, but his eyes catch movement in the shadows, behind the crates that were pinning down Ant-Man when he and the Avengers arrived. Zemo is about to warn the others and reach for his sword, when the movement in the shadows starts to shape and approach them.

And Zemo isn’t able to say a word or unsheathe his sword, and the only thing he can do is give a small, reluctant step back.

On the contrary, Heinrich Zemo strides decidedly towards him, ignoring everyone else.

* * *

 

Captain America and Iron Man arrive at the warehouse expecting to find Taskmaster captured and their friends – and Zemo – doing something silly like arm-wrestling or picking on Ant-Man.

But when they step inside, they nearly stumble on an empty electric net and find Falcon, Hawkeye, Ant-Man and Thor staring helplessly at Baron Heinrich Zemo and Baron Helmut Zemo fighting each other and yelling angrily in German.

And that is the last thing Captain America wants to see ever again: Zemo senior and Zemo junior confined to the same space. Practical as always, Rogers throws his shield at Heinrich Zemo’s head… but the shield flies through him, only to hit Helmut and send him stumbling backwards against the wall:

“Yeah, why do you think we’re just staring?” Hawkeye shrieks, clenching his fists in frustration. Iron Man can’t believe what he has just seen and shoots a laser beam at the older Baron. Again, the beam makes its way through him and hits the younger Zemo:

“Right, I’ll apologise later…” Iron Man mumbles and loses no more time: he needs an immediate scan of Heinrich Zemo.

“We all have hit poor Helmut while trying to help…” Thor explains sadly, looking hopelessly at father and son battling each other viciously. Captain America, in his entire super-hero life, has never felt this useless, watching in horror as Heinrich Zemo’s sword slashes through the air and is hastily blocked by Helmut’s way too close to his abdomen:

“What happened???” Rogers demands, looking at his friends with wide eyes and urgency in his voice. “Where did the other Zemo come from???”

“That’s the fun part, Zemo Father is… in Zemo Son's head…!” Tony announces as his suit scans the older Zemo. “He’s not… _here_!”

Ant-Man hurriedly explains the accident and, in the end of the explanation, Captain America groans and facepalms in frustration:

“I thought his headband was meant to protect him from stuff like this…?” Falcon then ducks a laser that the younger Zemo has shot at his father, who simply dodged it.

“Circuitry gives protection against psychic attacks, but this isn’t psychic,” Tony informs, speaking like this is a particularly interesting subject that needs careful examination. “Zemo Father is merely a hallucination! The beam that hit Helmut is simply electricity that over-stimulated his brain, and his father is made up of residual particles from the beam that are receiving information from the electricity in the brain!”

Helmut Zemo is projected to the ground and kicked on the stomach, rolling across the warehouse until he hits the scattered crates. Rogers’ first impulse is going to help him, but before he can move, Heinrich Zemo is already there, yelling and brandishing his sword. The heroes’ earpieces don’t recognise the older Zemo’s voice, translating only what the younger one says.

Rogers doesn’t want to hear it, because it gives him an idea of what Heinrich Zemo is yelling at his son.

“It’s way too real for a hallucination!” Thor complains, and moves aside when both Zemos stumble closer to the Avengers, fighting a violent mix of grappling and sword-fighting. The younger Zemo has a large cut across his chest, but his father is unscathed and doesn’t seem to be growing tired.

“Yeah, if the weapon isn't as strong as the Power Prism, then Zemo Senior shouldn't be able to cause physical damage… He also acts like we're not here at all...” Iron Man scratches his chin thoughtfully, and that makes Rogers groan in despair again: they don’t have time for _science_!!

Rogers remembers the Power Prism, remembers the nightmarish Bucky that haunted him. His guess is that, since Lang’s weapon replicates the Prism, the more the fear and guilt are embedded in someone’s mind, the more powerful is the ghost that appears - which means, it's capable of causing physical harm. How this works, Rogers has absolutely no idea and right now he does not want to know. Captain America admits he's not surprised that Heinrich Zemo, despite being obviously loved and idolized by his son, is also Helmut Zemo's biggest fear; what surprises Rogers and breaks his heart is the sheer power the simple _thought_  of the former Baron has over the current one.

All he cares about is that they need to switch off Helmut Zemo’s brain before the imaginary Heinrich Zemo kills him – because right now there is no time for dialogue and try to reason Helmut into dismissing the hallucination of his father.

So, Captain America does the sensible thing: he runs at the Germans throttling each other and whacks the younger Zemo on the head with his shield.

Thankfully, the moment Helmut Zemo drops unconscious on Rogers’ arms, ready to catch him before he hits the ground, Heinrich Zemo wavers and disappears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, happy Easter everyone and please let me know what you think of this! :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you guys for your amazing support! ;-; It means the world to me!
> 
> This chapter features Ant-Man's weapon again - I have no idea how gun iron sights are adjusted/fixed (like, re-positioned on the barrel) so just bear with me.
> 
> (also, the saga of multi notes throughout the chapters continues)

Zemo becomes slowly aware that the side of his skull is a bit… sore. He groans, grunts, snarls in German and, slowly, turns on his side and pushes himself up, his head low.

He opens his eyes and lifts his head, taking in his surroundings and realising quickly he’s in his bedroom. That confuses him a little: he was playing Mikado with Thor, Barton and Wilson… oh, but then the AI had said something about Ant-Man needing help… and they had defeated Taskmaster… Zemo had been treacherously attacked from behind…

And Heinrich Zemo had materialised in front of him.

Zemo sits on the bed abruptly and looks around frantically, slightly panicked. If his father knows he’s staying at the Avengers Tower, with the team of super-heroes alive and well, _he will not be pleased_. Zemo needs to find his father, must explain his plan to him, must-

In his frenzy, Zemo suddenly notices Captain America sitting cross-legged on the carpet, with his back resting against the bed and looking up at him with a small smile that does nothing to mask his concern. A million questions whirls around in Zemo’s mind, but all of them are about his father – none is about why is Captain America in his bedroom, looking at him like that.

“Helmut?” Rogers calls softly as the German ignores him in favour of looking around the bedroom once again. Rogers’ brow furrows and in that moment, he loathes Heinrich Zemo: how can his son be so terrified of him that he keeps looking around, expecting him to show up; what did father do to son to scar him like this? Captain America has always been protective of his friends, old and new, and that is why he’s there, that is why he has spent the last hours next to an unconscious Helmut Zemo.

So that he could protect him once he woke up again.

Rogers sighs and, after a little hesitation, hauls himself up to sit at the edge of the bed, next to Zemo, who finally seems to really notice him and frowns:

“Where is my father?” he asks, wondering what the Avengers have done – and more important, if he will be able to undo it…

“He’s gone, Helmut. It was just a bad dream,” Rogers assures, and he wants to reach out for Zemo, squeeze his shoulders affectionately, maybe even pull him into a hug. He doesn’t, because the German looks way too tense and Rogers is sure it would end up in an exchange of blows.

Zemo simply shakes his head, confused, and Rogers sighs sadly. He scoots a little closer to Zemo:

“Ant-Man’s weapon unleashed your greatest fear… It was an accident; he didn’t mean to. But… it wasn’t real, Helmut. You father was just your mind tricking you,” Captain America grimaces a little, because this explanation sounds even more confusing. He knows Zemo likes to know _exactly_ how things work, and this isn’t satisfactory. “You can talk to Tony about this, he’ll explain you all the science behind it and-“

“I do not fear my father,” Zemo states, his voice tight, and he feels cornered and trapped. He does not want to talk about it with Rogers – or anyone, really; not even his relatives.

Helmut Zemo’s relationship with his father is complex, having spiralled out of control over the years and into a series of contradictions: he loves and hates his father; idolizes and despises his father; cares for him while not giving a flying damn about him; stands up to him but is absolutely terrified of him; wants to make his own path but following on his father’s footsteps; wants to be recognised by his own merit yet wishes others will see glimpses of his father in him; is glad his father is gone and that he won’t torment him anymore, but wishes only to have him back by his side. But if the thirteenth Baron Zemo is to be fully honest with himself and strips of all complexity… he just loves his father and wishes things had been different – things old and recent.

The happenings of that night on the fourth of July last year parade before his eyes: the fight, Rogers offering him a hand, Helmut kicking Heinrich Zemo back into the time portal and stating it was _him_ who wasn’t worthy of being his father. And it had felt good, and still today he admits Captain America was right when he told him Heinrich Zemo didn’t deserve his loyalty. Yet at the same time… Helmut Zemo would give everything to go back to that night and do everything opposite, kill Rogers and show his father his worth, make his father proud of him and pledge his loyalty to him and no other man. 

But Zemo can’t built another time machine with the Avengers keeping an eye on him, and that's why he’s here, in the Avengers Tower, playing along Rogers’ ridiculous plan of becoming… someone better. That is why he has been hit by a stupid weapon that brought his nightmares to the real world – the torn suit from the cut across his chest, now healed, is enough proof that Heinrich Zemo was real and was not amused to find his son among super-heroes…

Baron Helmut Zemo is usually calm and collected, but the Father Subject always strikes a nerve. Rogers sees emotions and thoughts storming on the German’s face: without the mask, Zemo is almost a nullity at hiding what goes in his soul, and unlike most villains he hasn’t yet bothered to school his face into a permanent state of indifference: his thin angled eyebrows knit together, his nostrils flare in anger and his thin lips disappear in a bitter line; the scars across his face shift slightly as his muscles twitch nervously and he clenches his jaw; his prominent Adam’s apple bobs slowly as he swallows. His violet eyes are lost, seeing things only he can, shadowed by a toxic mixture of sorrow and wrath – and are they becoming… shinier with moist?

For good and bad, Baron Zemo is a passionate man and feels intensely. This is why Rogers has so rapidly grown fond of Zemo: his ability to _feel_. Though Captain America isn’t very sure about the German’s capability of processing all his feelings and emotions, but none of the Avengers has this function working correctly, either – Steve Rogers included. Rogers desperately wants to wrap his arms around Zemo and give him a friendly shoulder to cry on; wants to promise him everything will be alright, that the former Baron will never bother him again and yet, if he does, then Rogers will protect him. Rogers feels an overwhelming need to reach out for Zemo and comfort him, assure the other man he can count on him.

The ice they have been walking on is breaking again, but not to show a hidden danger beneath it.

Still, Captain America doesn’t make a single gesture nor makes a promise he knows he can’t fulfil. Zemo is an extremely proud man, and Rogers knows very well that he would rather jump off the window than cry on _Captain America_ ’s shoulder…

Zemo himself notices the mess he’s about to become, and he lowers his head, hiding his eyes from Rogers, and takes a deep breath. Biting the inside of his cheek one last time, he looks up again:

“I do not fear my father,” he repeats quietly, his accent heavier, mostly to convince himself that Heinrich Zemo doesn’t terrify him.

Rogers simply sighs, annoyed, wondering why Zemo doesn’t want to acknowledge it. He makes a mental note that they must talk about Heinrich Zemo again, but when the current Baron is calmer and in a better mood. Also, he must admit he’s shocked the German hasn’t expulsed him from his bedroom yet, that he was allowed him to stay this long and see a glimpse of his internal struggle.

With surprising energy, Zemo jumps to the floor and walks decidedly to his built-in closet. He opens it and starts to pick up clothes, and for a moment Rogers wonders if Ant-Man’s weapon has left side-effects:

“Helmut?” he calls again, just to be sure the German is aware Rogers is still there.

Zemo turns around to face him, head tilted and holding a neat pile of folded black clothes. He simply looks tired, now:

“How long was I passed out?” Zemo asks, but his head isn’t sore anymore.

Rogers bites his lower lip softly, guilt written all over his face:

“I knocked you out…”

“That was not what I asked, Steven…” Zemo sighs, but he’s not bothered – nor surprised – that Captain America used his shield on him. As he starts to remember what happened… he’s kinda grateful, even…

“Uh… right, we came home around dinner time…” Rogers frowns. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., how long has it been?”

“It’s now one in the morning, Captain,” the AI informs, and both Rogers and Zemo widen their eyes. “Baron Zemo was unconscious for six hours, twenty minutes and three seconds.”

Zemo’s face softens and he fights back a smile, remembering the sight of Rogers sitting on the floor, next to the bed:

“Steven, you were not with me the entire time… were you?”

For some reason, Rogers blushes. He still tries to look dignified when he replies – after all, Zemo is his friend, and he was concerned, wanted to be there when he woke up to make sure he was alright… and he feels a bit guilty about hitting him with the shield:

“Of course I was…”

Zemo rolls his eyes and wants to say Rogers is a super-sappy man _–_ no pun intended, Baron Zemo is no Hawkeye. But he can’t.

 _Baron Zemo is not sentimental over this_. He simply… appreciates Rogers’ concern over his well-being. In fact, Rogers is always mindful of it. And because Captain America was nice to him, he too needs to be nice. It’s a matter of politeness: _Baron Zemo does not care at all for his greatest enemy_.

Besides, having something else to think about will do wonders to help him push to the back of his mind the sight of his father walking up to him with his sword unsheathed…

Leaving his clothes over his desk, Zemo walks up to the bed again and sits next to Rogers, looking attentively at him:

“You look tired. How about a little help to sleep?”

* * *

 

If only the Avengers knew Steve Rogers is about to undergo a hypnotherapy session… Well, there’s a chance they may come to know: F.R.I.D.A.Y. has made it clear she will warn everyone else if she detects anomalies in Rogers’ brain activity and heart rate.

Lying on his bed over his back, Rogers has his head turned on the pillow to look at Zemo, sitting on the floor with his legs stretched forwards and shoulder leaning against the bed, his leather-clad black notebook open on his lap. From this angle, Rogers can only see the top of his blond head, and while Zemo reads his notes again, Rogers feels a sudden - and perhaps inappropriate urge - to reach out and stir the German’s hair.

Zemo, however, looks up from his notes while Rogers debates internally whether he should or not at least _poke_ that neat blond undercut with a finger – therefore, solving Captain America’s big dilemma, and Rogers resumes to lie innocently on his back:

“Very well, let us begin!” Zemo has that look on his face again, like Rogers is a particularly interesting subject to be studied. He clears his throat and, when he speaks again, his voice is smoother but also firm and commanding. “Close your eyes, breathe calmly, focus only in my voice.”

Rogers sighs, makes himself comfortable and does as he’s told. He must admit he’s slightly nervous, and part of him is still wary of Baron Zemo’s hypnosis skills.

However, this time Zemo means no harm: he induces Rogers in a series of visualisations, where Rogers is standing in an obstacle field that he must cross to achieve his prize – a good night of sleep; each obstacle is a wall that he must climb, but the bricks that make the walls are the materialized ghosts that keep him awaken – his childhood, his parents, Bucky, the war, the ice, the modern world, catastrophic scenarios with the Avengers… each brick catches Rogers’ attention, and he doesn’t want to climb the walls. Zemo isn’t surprised that Captain America is resisting, that Rogers’ subconscious stubbornly refuses to overcome his past, and Zemo insists, convincing Rogers to climb the walls, one by one, telling him he’s becoming more tired and in urgent need of sleep the further he goes and the more walls he climbs.

It takes hours for Zemo to successfully talk Rogers through the obstacle course. Unlike the previous hypnosis episode, however, Zemo doesn’t manipulate Rogers, keeping him fully conscious during the entire process and leaving up to him whether to continue or to stop.

But it works: Rogers, with his imagination guided by Zemo, gradually gives in and follows his lead, climbs the walls one by one, feeling more and more tired, with heavier limbs and lids. He yawns once or twice, both in his mind and in real life, and when he overcomes the last obstacle he finds himself in a peaceful meadow, where a large and comfortable bed stands before him. Rogers is so exhausted he drops to the bed and falls asleep immediately.

And Steve Rogers, lying on his bed in the Avengers Tower, dives in a deep and dreamless sleep.

Slowly, Zemo stands up and closes his notebook softly. He looks at the sleeping Captain America, his greatest enemy, so vulnerable and destructible sleeping like that. Also ridiculously adorable, and Zemo remembers Rogers embracing him after the attack to the A.I.M. base – Rogers is a nice, warm and solid surface to rest on, and lying on his back like that, looking so peaceful, looks extremely inviting and cosy and-

Turning gracefully and silently on his heels, Baron Zemo marches out of the bedroom with an undignified blush on his face, under the black balaclava – and hasn’t Stark noticed yet this goddamned tower gets a bit too hot sometimes??

* * *

 

Having already – and forcefully – slept, Zemo isn’t the mood to stay alone in his bedroom and decides to entertain himself doing something other than reading. Since Captain America is asleep, sword-fighting is out of question; it still leaves him Thor and Hawkeye, and certainly one of them – or both – will want to play in the PlayStation with him. Or finish the Mikado game.

Zemo is about to make his way to Thor’s bedroom and knock at the door when he realises it’s not even six in the morning – and by now Baron Zemo already knows most of the Avengers are not early birds.

Doomed to be on his own, Baron Zemo considers watching a movie in the TV. And maybe change the TV settings from English to German just to annoy the Avengers. Yes, and also the PlayStation settings… But pranking the Avengers with an empty stomach is out of question, and Zemo makes a beeline to the kitchen area to make himself breakfast.

The toaster, instead of being in its usual spot on the kitchen counter, is standing ominously on the kitchen isle. Zemo’s first thought is that Thor overpowered another innocent appliance, but upon closer inspection, the German finds a sticky note stating that «Puny toaster can’t make proper toasts!!!» in capital letters and angry handwriting.

Right, the Hulk broke the toaster…

* * *

 

“I really need to stop mixing the toolboxes…” Iron Man grunts tiredly as he finally finds what he has been looking for the whole night. With a victorious smile, he turns around to face the others. “Guys, I found it!”

But Ant-Man and Falcon are curled on top of a workbench, sleeping, and Hawkeye is sprawled on a chair, fast asleep and snoring loudly; Captain Marvel, who was called by Iron Man because of the weapon, is lying on the floor and sleeping; the Thunderbolts, who were brought along by Captain Marvel, are all neatly piled over an overgrown Atlas and they all sleep peacefully. Iron Man narrows his eyes; he didn’t take _that long_ to find this particular toolbox, did he?

Tony mercilessly wakes up the others by loudly putting down the toolbox on the same workbench where Lang and Sam are sleeping, startling everyone and making Atlas shrink back to his normal size abruptly:

“I found the toolbox, now I can fix the sights of the gun,” Tony announces, rummaging through the toolbox and picking up various delicate tools. With grunts and curses, Captain Marvel and the Thunderbolts scramble to their feet. Clint, however, lets his head loll back and closes his eyes again, not even bothering to arrange the lopsided sunglasses on his face:

“What was wrong with the hundreds of toolboxes you went through?” he grunts:

“This one has tools of my own design, obviously!” Tony replies, rolling his eyes like Clint is a lost case. None of the Avengers has weapons than require sights, but that didn’t stop genius Tony Stark from thinking ahead and invent tools to properly modify, adjust, remove and replace gun sights.

Though he has the fancy tools, it has been a while since Tony laid his hands on weapons with sights. He’s still positive he totally got this, and Ant-Man’s weapon is going to be the guinea-pig to prove him right.

More asleep than awaken, Lang resizes the weapon he has been keeping in his belt pouch and hands it to Iron Man, who inspects it with interest:

“Just don’t shoot it…” Clint grumbles from the chair. Lang pouts:

“Ok, I got it…” Then he grins. “But it was fun. I mean, Zemo yelping and falling on Thor. And Thor falling on his butt.”

Hawkeye laughs at the memory of it and Tony chuckles at the thought of it, puts down the weapon and starts working. Captain Marvel approaches him with her arms crossed over her chest:

“I still can’t believe you’re sheltering Baron Zemo…” she comments. “Really, sometimes I think Rogers still has parts of his brain a bit frozen.”

“I don’t think Zemo is intrinsically bad…” Hawkeye shares with a shrug, arranges his sunglasses and stretches, then jumps to his feet. “I mean, he’s pretty likeable when he’s not throwing a tantrum or being arrogant.”

“He’s a Grammar Nazi and I’m thankful for that!” Falcon adds and nods solemnly, because asking Zemo to review his papers was the best idea he ever had:

“He’s a _Nazi, Hydra,_ whatever…” Captain Marvel corrects and throws her arms in the air; really, what is Rogers thinking??

“Zemo is a megalomaniac and a spoiled brat, but I must admit he’s pretty close to being a genius,” Iron Man states with a hint of resignation. “He’s being very helpful with Kang’s tech…”

“But… what is his greatest fear?” Techno asks curiously, and the other Thunderbolts exchange looks, wondering about that same question – from the time they spent with Zemo and the rigorous training he gave them, it didn’t seem possible the German had any good sense left to fear anything at all:

“His father,” Hawkeye replies nonchalantly. “The guy must have been a real monster…”

A moment of silence follows. Mach-IV nudges Meteorite softly, and she voices his very important question:

“Are you saying he didn’t sprout from the ground? He had an actual family?”

They all laugh, because the concept of an evil supervillain like Baron Zemo having a family is almost absurd. Then Hawkeye shares with them about Zemo’s many cousins – or Zemolings, as he likes calling them -  and they just laugh harder at the image of a small army of toddler Zemos, masked, armed with expensive toys and throwing tantrums for this and that.

“So… the Avengers are friends with Baron Zemo, now? Is he part of the team?” Captain Marvel eventually asks, because it’s the only logical explanation for the Avengers’ liking on the villain and knowing about his relatives.

Iron Man snorts, still busy with the weapon’s sights:

“Heck, no!”

“Cap and Thor might disagree with you…” Clint reminds, searching his pockets for candy. He finds nothing and sighs sadly, thinking of breakfast:

“Now I’m confused…” Lang narrows his eyes, thoughtful. “You say the guy isn’t bad at all… but you don’t trust him to be part of the team?”

“Look, Zemo is just like this gun: powerful, will give you the upper hand in a fight… but it’s not reliable, which makes it pretty much useless…” Iron Man explains:

“And that takes us back again: what went through Rogers’ head to bring him in??” Captain Marvel sighs, annoyed, and Captain America is a great super-hero but he’s also rather dumb. Okay, very dumb – he brought home one of his nemesis… “Who’s he picking up from the animal shelter next, the Red Skull?”

The thought of it is both terrifying and hilarious, and they all laugh again. Iron Man is almost finished with the sights:

“One thing that bothers me, though…” Hawkeye says and sits on the chair again. “… we never saw his face.”

“I bet Cap knows how he looks like,” Falcon guesses, making Clint nod in agreement:

“I bet he’s ugly!” Atlas exclaims excitedly, because not even the Masters of Evil had the chance to see Baron Zemo unmasked. The only logical explanation must be that the German is not nice to look at and, being the proud and arrogant uppity he is, he’s probably self-conscious about it. “With a tooth gap, a bald head, zits…” Surprisingly, nobody is laughing; the others are simply staring at Atlas… and to a point over his shoulder. Atlas’ smile dies and he sighs in defeat. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he…?”

Atlas glances over his shoulder: yeah, Baron Zemo is behind him, standing at the entrance of the workshop and holding a toaster.

The Thunderbolts, Ant-Man and Captain Marvel are surprised to see him out of his usual outfit – and carrying a toaster. 

Baron Zemo says nothing to the former Masters of Evil and walks past them. Ignoring Captain Marvel and Ant-Man, he grunts a greeting at Tony, Clint and Sam and makes his way to a smaller workbench, parallel to the one Iron Man is working on.

“Thor?” Iron Man asks, looking at the toaster.

Zemo grabs some tools from the workbench drawer:

“The Hulk,” he replies dryly and proceeds to open and disassemble the toaster.

Baron Zemo has come down here, to the only workshop that doesn’t require a passcode, to fix the result of the Hulk’s culinary deeds. And he was in a good mood, but it lasted only until the moment he was approaching the workshop, heard voices and decided to remain outside and overhear the conversation – it was about him, so it only made sense that he remained hidden to discover what the others thought of his noble person. And it had been oddly nice to find out that others besides Captain America and Thor liked him – of course, the statements about his strong personality were rather exaggerated…

However, despite all the good things he has done – both in fighting and in the daily life at the tower – he’s still not trusted… and it had somehow _hurt_ Zemo. Rogers and Thor already trusted him fully, why didn’t the others? What had he done wrong now? Why was Iron Man always picking on him?

And the moment the super-heroes and those treacherous Thunderbolts had started to make fun of him and his family – how dare they talk about his father??? – Baron Zemo’s good mood was gone and the German was feeling even more _hurt_.

Zemo quickly fixes the toaster and puts the tools he used back in place. He walks past Iron Man, casts him a discreet yet hateful look… and notices the weapon. The stupid weapon that materialized his father in the warehouse.

He stops and tilts his head, smiling slyly under his balaclava:

“You are doing it wrong,” he states in a velvety voice that has Iron Man turning around to glower – albeit surprised - at him. All the others hold their breath: _nobody_ has the authority to correct _Tony Stark_ in matters of inventing and fixing:

“Excuse me??” Tony gasps and gapes when Zemo shoves the toaster to his hands and pushes him aside to work on the weapon:

“You are doing it wrong, Stark. This is not how you adjust iron sights…” Truth to be told, Tony isn’t doing it wrong at all: it would translate in a few centimetres’ difference between the aimed location and the actual shot – which means, a mere trifle against a large target… like a person.

But Baron Zemo, always rigorous, can’t ignore this opportunity to humiliate Tony Stark in front of everyone – a rightful punishment for making fun of _him_ minutes ago. Zemo is an expert shooter, has a wide knowledge of firearms (and laser blasters), and he knows how the proportions between the length of the barrel and the iron sights work. He could detect, just by looking at the gun, that something wasn’t completely right with it. Yet the inaccuracy of the weapon is more because of Ant-Man’s poor craftsmanship in the construction of the gun; tilting his head to the side while arranging the sights, Zemo might kill two birds with one stone:

“Of course, Ant-Man did it wrong in the first place…” he comments casually. “The sights were too far behind.”

“Zemo, we don’t need a demonstration of your pettiness right now…” Clint scolds, feeling the tension rising: Falcon is looking with concern at Tony’s glower; Captain Marvel is looking at Zemo with narrowed eyes; Ant-Man is looking down, ashamed, because alright, he might have gotten the gun’s proportions a bit off; the Thunderbolts are silent, looking at Iron Man and Baron Zemo with wide eyes.

Some time later and Zemo has finished adjusting the sights. He aims the gun to a roll of isolating foam tucked away in a corner of the workshop:

“See that grease stain? I am going to hit it,” he announces and presses the trigger. Everybody’s first instinct is running away – because they do not want to have the same faith that Zemo had. But the red beam shot by the gun hits precisely the grease stain, and the foam absorbs the beam.

A moment of shocked silence, and Iron Man’s pride is grievously wounded: the Avengers may not use weapons with iron sights… but Zemo does, he has pistols, and god knows what kind of Nazi/Hydra guns he used before! Besides… _Tony was a weapons manufacturer, he should have known better!!_

Tony Stark is not a man to have his pride insulted and attacked like that, and if Zemo wants war, then he shall have it!

“In other news, I invented a software to translate Zemo’s gibberish German in real time,” he tells, smirking, and Zemo narrows his eyes at him. “I installed it on F.R.I.D.A.Y. and in our earpieces, too.”

“That’s brilliant!” Captain Marvel compliments, because the last thing the super-heroes need is that Baron Zemo conducts his evil shenanigans right under their noses, in German, preventing them to understand what’s going on.

Iron Man looks at Zemo, smugness written all over his face, and shoves the toaster back to his hands.

Baron Zemo does not like to be reminded of the fact that everyone can understand what he says in his mother-tongue. Especially because Stark invented the software. For a moment he’s speechless, until he has the most brilliant idea ever – almost as brilliant as his ingenious plan to destroy the Avengers:

“But have you really?” he asks in Old High German, voice full of poison, mentally thanking his father for forcing him to learn medieval German – both Old High and Middle High German.

Tony frowns when Zemo speaks in that ungodly language of his and F.R.I.D.A.Y. doesn’t translate it in his earpiece. By the surprised looks on Falcon’s and Hawkeye’s faces, it must have happened the same to them.

“You seem a little confused, Stark…” Zemo teases, still in the old medieval dialect. He considers taking the chance to tell Iron Man _exactly_ what he thinks of him… but better not; who knows if Stark won’t come up with a software to translate Old High German? So Zemo, for the sake of being one step ahead, contents himself by simply enjoying the astonished look on Iron Man’s face. “Maybe you should rest a little, it would be a shame if you dropped dead of exhaustion… Anyway, I have fixed that infernal gun: the sights are so accurate my toddler cousins could do as good as professional snipers.”

With a malicious smirk playing on his lips, Baron Zemo leaves the workshop and the speechless heroes.

* * *

 

The good mood, however, is irremediably lost, and so Zemo opts for the quietude of his bedroom and the loyal company of a book. He has been reading for quite some time and is considering to make a small break and eat something when someone knocks at the door of his bedroom.

With a sigh, he puts on his balaclava again and stands from the bed to go open the door. He isn’t surprised to find Rogers – but the apprehension on Captain America’s face is completely unexpected. With a frown, Zemo steps aside, Rogers comes in and Zemo closes the door behind him:

“You do not seem to be well-rested,” the German points, pulling off the balaclava and tossing it to the bed. Rogers pinches his nose bridge and sighs:

“I slept like a rock, believe me, and I really appreciate that. The thing is… I woke up about twenty minutes ago and when I went to get some food, I had Tony, Clint, Sam, Scott, Carol and the Thunderbolts waiting for me in the living room,” Rogers tells, slightly annoyed. “And they said you sneaked on them in the workshop-“

“I went there to fix the toaster that the green monster broke!!” Zemo defends himself immediately:

“- and that you were unnecessarily brusque to Tony and Scott-“

“They are poor and ungrateful!! I merely did a better job than any of them!!”

“Stop interrupting me!” Rogers snaps angrily, startling Zemo. “You proposedly humiliated Tony and Scott and you embarrassed Tony when you started to speak something that F.R.I.D.A.Y. couldn’t translate!”

Zemo narrows his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest. He’s already in a bad mood, he doesn’t need Captain America to bug him further:

“Is this Avengers Kindergarten, now?” he asks with disdain. Typical of a petty man like Tony Stark to attack someone from behind instead of direct confrontation. That was why he hid inside an armour.

Rogers sighs again, his face becoming too serious for Zemo’s liking:

“Did you put me to sleep like that, so that you could take revenge on Scott for what happened in the warehouse and take revenge on Tony for his software?” he asks, raising his voice just a little. Rogers wants to believe it was simply a misunderstanding – that Zemo honestly just wanted to help him to sleep better and that he and his enormous ego had a bad encounter with Tony and his equally gigantic ego and that Lang was simply collateral damage. It had been a while since Captain America was nagged about Subject Zemo, and waking up to a bunch of aggrieved super-heroes wasn’t nice. And fine, Tony is a difficult person, but he’s Captain America’s best friend and Rogers can’t simply ignore when his best friend is humiliated like that.

Zemo’s violet eyes harden:

“I went to fix the toaster and seized the opportunity to fix the gun that caused me trouble and remind Stark that he is not perfect,” he states coldly, and wouldn’t Rogers ask what lead Zemo to do it? Wouldn’t Rogers want to know if the others somehow bothered the German, making him feel the need to retaliate??

Wouldn’t Rogers… care?

Well, if Rogers won’t, it’s not up to Zemo to make him. Zemo feels hurt enough, he doesn’t want more of it.

Squaring his shoulders the maximum possible, Zemo hopes to look bigger and more menacing. Yet he’s still as tall and as broad as Rogers, and only the way his jaw is clenched and his muscles are tensed make Rogers consider that he shouldn’t have come to talk to Zemo while annoyed, because he has just antagonized the German – and by now Captain America should already know that he needs to tread carefully around Zemo and his tendency for mood swings.

For a second, Rogers wonders where Helmut Zemo got this damnable temper of his – and he’s almost willing to bet the German must have inherited it from his father…

“You should leave,” Zemo’s voice, stern and sharp, distracts Rogers from his thoughts. To make his point, Zemo opens the door of his bedroom again and motions Captain America’s departure with an imperious gesture of his head.

Rogers understands he approached the subject the wrong way and that Zemo is actually being gracious about it, giving him a chance to leave unscathed – oh yes, Rogers is well aware that, if irritated just enough, Baron Zemo won’t hesitate to get in a fight. With a defeated sigh, Rogers leaves the German’s bedroom, giving a small spooked jump when the door is violently slammed behind him.

Glancing over his shoulder, to the closed door, Rogers feels his initial annoyance dissipating, and now he’s simply tired. Ridiculous, considering he has just slept for hours, peacefully, like he hadn’t in a long time. He should have thanked Zemo, instead of accusing him of something – especially because Rogers doesn’t even know Zemo’s side of the story, and Captain America does not like to make judgments when he isn’t aware of all the facts. This was definitely one big mistake, and the kind that Rogers can’t afford to commit when it comes to Baron Zemo.

He looks away from the closed door and rubs his face with his hands, frustrated.

* * *

 

The super-heroes and the resident super-villain are in need of a good, old-fashioned and infallible team-bonding training. Or at least, Captain America thinks so.

That is why, on the next day, Baron Zemo is grudgingly standing in the enclosed training area together with the Avengers, the Thunderbolts, Ant-Man and Captain Marvel. Zemo is still in a terrible mood and so is Iron Man, who’s still thinking about the affronts of the previous day; Falcon, Hawkeye and Thor have sensed the tension in the air and feel uneasy; the Hulk is hopeful that today is the day of Smash; the Thunderbolts are torn between feeling excited about training with the Avengers and feeling stressed because Baron Zemo is there as well and they didn’t part ways in friendliness; Captain Marvel would rather be somewhere else and Ant-Man is willing to bet that there will be a big drama.

Rogers is positive the team-bonding training will solve the problem, and he’s cheerful and hoping that his enthusiasm will reach out to the others:

“Alright guys, I called you all here for a team-bonding training,” he announces, looking around to the other super-heroes – and Zemo.

Zemo, who immediately turns his back and begins to walk away. Rogers can’t understand how the German can be so charming and endearing in a moment and so vexing and exasperating the next second.

Also, Rogers can’t understand why it affects him so much:

“Helmut, where are you going?” he asks dryly and rests his closed fists on his hips.

The German stops and turns around, head tilted and fake innocence written all over his pink mask:

“You just said «team-bonding training», Steven… I am not part of the team,” Zemo replies in the same velvety voice he used with Taskmaster and Tony, a tone that is a portent of doom. Still, Rogers is a bit taken aback by the apparent softness of the German’s voice, and the provocation would have gone unnoticed if only Tony wasn’t in the mood for arguing:

“Yeah, you’re not part of the team. So if your highness wishes to go, then please go…” he grumbles. Rogers grimaces and looks sharply at Tony:

“Tony, don’t be like that!“ he scolds, but Iron Man just looks at him defiantly:

“I’m the leader of this team, and I happen to own this tower…”

“Good, keep your tower all for yourself, I have better places to be!” Zemo exclaims in mock cheerfulness and resumes his retreat to the exiting of the enclosed training area.

Thor frowns and looks from Rogers to Zemo:

“Friends…” he tries, but the Hulk shushes him quietly, sensing the right moment to Smash finally approaching.

Rogers strides away from Iron Man – he can talk to Tony later, now his main priority is keeping Baron Zemo from leaving. He quickly approaches the German, grabs him by the arm and turns him around, so that they are face to face. The others collectively hold their breath and the Hulk prepares to leap at the German.

And oh, how Zemo wants to unsheathe his sword and fight Rogers! He has had enough, his brilliant plan be damned: he wants to act now, do as much damage as possible, inflict pain and make the Avengers pay for all the insults to his person – and his father, and the noble name of Zemo, and the family’s reputation.

However, what better way to hurt Rogers other than that rubbing salt in open wounds?

“You seem to have a difficulty in letting go… that might explain your recurrent insomnia…” Zemo says quietly, voice full of malice. A statement so simple that to everyone around them sounds as plain as it seems. Yet Zemo means much more, and he knows that just referring to «insomnia» is enough to stir Rogers’ ghosts.

It does the trick, and Rogers looks like he was hit across the face. With wide eyes, Captain America immediately releases Zemo, like he was given an electric shock, and steps back abruptly. Smiling victoriously under his mask, Zemo leaves the enclosed training area and goes to his bedroom.

The Hulk is confused, wondering if the moment of Smash is gone. An awkward silence fills the training area as the super-heroes exchange looks and try to understand what just happened – especially Thor, who’s convinced Baron Zemo didn’t just grace them with one of his pesky tantrums and that there must be more to it.

Realising he might have escalated a petty quarrel between him and Zemo to something more personal involving Captain America as well, Tony Stark sheepishly walks up to his friend and touches his shoulder:

“Steve?” he calls quietly.

Rogers looks like he’s about to explode, and he angrily steps away from Tony:

“Training’s over,” Rogers grunts and storms off.

He’s frustrated about the previous day, he’s angry at Iron Man for his interference regarding Zemo, he’s furious about the failure of his team-building training… and he’s _hurt_ , to the point that his eyes sting with tears and Zemo’s words echo in his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, tell me what you think! :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you all for your feedback! :'D 
> 
> (and the saga of multi-notes continues)

For almost five minutes, Baron Zemo is on top of the world. He might have not destroyed the Avengers, but he sure landed a painful blow on Rogers!

So… why does he gradually feels so bad? He should be feeling victorious, accomplished... but there’s this emptiness, this clenching on the pit of his stomach, this weight pulling his whole body down… Rogers had looked so shocked, so pained… like he truly hadn’t expected Baron Zemo to hit him with such a low blow…

Zemo realises he’s been standing rigidly in the middle of his bedroom for a while now, thinking about the look on Rogers’ face. It bothers him that he can’t feel good for having done the right thing to his enemy – especially because this is all Rogers’ fault, if he had been more considerate the day before, instead of blatantly accusing him of offending Iron Man…

Wanting to dismiss Rogers from his mind, Zemo sits at the desk, logs in his laptop and opens a PDF file he has been trying to read for a while. But he can’t focus, reading the same paragraphs over and over and distracting himself with arranging things on his desk, or checking the time on his mobile, or suddenly finding the built-in lights in the ceiling fascinating.

Not even as a child he was this absent – well, by no means Heinrich Zemo would have allowed it… but still, it feels both ridiculous and scary that the mere thought of a shocked and hurt Captain America isn’t letting Baron Zemo focus on the task at hand. It’s also infuriating, and Zemo wants to hate Rogers for it: that is what enemies do, they hate each other, the German should be happy about having hurt him.

Someone knocks at the door, startling Zemo. Whoever it is, has a different way of knocking from Rogers:

“Helmut?” It’s Thor, and the Norse god knocks again.

Zemo groans, but since he can’t read, he shuts down his laptop and grudgingly opens the door – just enough to slip his masked head through the opening.

He’s met by an unusually serious Thor, but the Asgardian doesn’t seem to be here to nag him about something. He looks a bit sad, actually, and he’s fidgeting a little, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to address it.

The German waits impatiently for a moment, until finally Thor takes in a deep breath and crosses his hands behind his back:

“I know it is none of my business, but… whatever happened, I am sure the Captain is underserving of your wrath. He cares deeply for you,” Thor says in an unusually quiet voice. The German is speechless and has no idea of what to do, simply standing there looking at Thor in awkward silence. Thor sighs and shrugs. “Just… just think about it, yes?” And just like that, the Asgardian walks away towards his own bedroom.

Zemo watches him go, blinking slowly. The Tower is silent: the Avengers went to their respective bedrooms after Rogers’ hastily dismissing them from training – except for Iron Man, who’s locked in one of his labs trying to come up with something nice to make up for whatever harm he might have caused to Captain America; the Thunderbolts, Ant-Man and Captain Marvel have left the tower certain that Baron Zemo should be locked away in the Vaults.

The German goes back into his own bedroom, but he stands by the door, his head low and his eyes lost, repeating Thor’s words in his mind. He should be indignant at Thor for daring to come over and give his opinion on something that has nothing to do with him. Yet… Zemo simply can’t.

It’s not like Thor is a friend… it’s just… maybe there is truth in his words… Perhaps, Zemo shouldn’t have talked to Rogers like that… Zemo should have taken in consideration that, while all the other heroes despise him, Captain America respects him and is always trying to make him feel welcomed and part of the team. Which Baron Zemo is not and has no wish to be whatsoever. No matter how… special… it makes him feel. No matter how much he enjoys Rogers’ attention and consideration and care…

But it still doesn’t give Rogers the right to accuse him of proposedly having a petty revenge on Ant-Man and hurting Tony Stark’s delicate pride!

Baron Helmut Zemo is the victim, here! Everybody should be apologising to him!!

With a groan, Zemo rubs his masked face with his hands. He should be thinking _logically_ and he’s not, he’s thinking with feelings and emotions… just like he has been doing lately when Rogers is involved. The realisation scares him, but also enlightens him a little – that doesn’t mean, however, Zemo likes his sudden epiphany.

_He needs to talk to Rogers…_

Carefully, Zemo peeks outside his bedroom: the corridor is empty, the tower is still silent. Being as discreet as possible, Zemo leaves his bedroom and crosses the short distance than separates him from Rogers’ bedroom – and it kinda feels like the corridor is larger, because the last time Captain America’s bedroom didn’t seem this distant.

With his heart leaping madly in his chest, Zemo clears his throat and knocks at the door.

A primal need of turning around and running away washes over the German, but Baron Zemo is a very proud (and very stubborn) man who does not run away. Never. No matter how uncomfortable he feels or how scared he is. Rogers doesn’t answer the door right away and the German thinks about knocking again, but when he’s raising his fist the door opens slowly and Rogers is standing there.

Captain America’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline when he sees Zemo, the last person he expected to be knocking at his door. Especially because it has only been a few hours since the failed training – Zemo can’t have possibly cooled down already, right? No, he must be here to continue the argument, even though he’s oozing discomfort. Rogers bites his lower lip softly, uneasy, but he has concluded that maybe he has deserved Zemo’s harshness for having upset him the day before…

Still, Rogers has this little ember of hope that Zemo is here to… apologise?

“Can I have a word with you?” Zemo asks in what he hopes to be a calm voice, but that sounds rather fragile to him. He has no idea of what do to next if Rogers yells at him or shuts the door on his face, and in anticipation he gives a small step back.

Contrary to that, Rogers steps aside and lets him in his bedroom, closing the door behind Zemo.

They stand rigidly, the distance between them feeling awkward and the silence deafening as they simply stare at each other.

The broken ice is drifting apart and they’re losing balance.

Zemo realises Rogers is expecting something from him - an apology, it must be it - and a crippling fear overcomes him: what if this is the day he finally can’t correspond to what Captain America expects of him? Zemo’s brilliant plan of destroying the Avengers feels suddenly secondary to the thought that he’s about to disappoint someone who has trusted him and, just like when he took Rogers to meet his cousins, Zemo chooses to ignore that Captain America is his enemy.

Zemo’s mouth is dry and he balls his hands into fists, then crosses his arms over his chest, protectively. He clears his throat again and, since he has his mask, can afford the luxury of keeping his eyes in a point over Rogers’ head:

“I… I apologise for what I said, earlier. It was cruel… to make that remark, and you do not deserve it,” he says, and his voice sounds hoarse in his ears. Now he looks at Rogers, expecting the final verdict, but Captain America simply shakes his head:

“Take off your mask,” Rogers moistens his lips and clenches his jaw, afraid his heart will jump out. Unlike what Rogers first thought, Zemo has come here with good intentions and now Rogers is asking too much of him, but Captain America _needs_ _proof_ of Zemo’s good will, wants to be sure Baron Zemo means what he says.

Zemo hesitates, then curses lowly in German and pulls the mask off, feeling naked and vulnerable. He musters courage to cast one brief glower at Rogers, before chewing his tongue for a moment, knit his brow in worry and force his skittish eyes to look straight at Rogers’.

Rogers’ blue eyes, like a peaceful harbour despite the urgency on them, and Zemo sighs:

“I am sorry…” he mutters, and it’s all he has the gut to say while looking Rogers in the eyes, unmasked.

The silence is deafening and Zemo catches himself wishing Doctor Doom would attack the tower right now, or that the floor would magically give away under his feet and swallow him, or that something catastrophic would happen and need the Avengers’ urgent intervention or- _just something to break the silence and force Zemo and Rogers to look away from each other, dammit!!!!!_

Rogers starts to sway a little, almost unnoticeably, and he too crosses his arms in front of his chest, protectively:

“I’m sorry too…” he says quietly. “About yesterday. I… I should have asked for your version of the story, first…”

Zemo frowns, surprised, and he had no idea Rogers would be aware that he had upset Zemo the day before - Zemo didn't think he was important enough.

And just like that, Rogers closes the distance between them by trapping Zemo in a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around the middle of the German’s chest and hiding his head on the crook of Zemo’s neck.

 _Baron Zemo is not panicked!_ He’s simply surprised, because only his relatives dare hugging him. And also Rogers, that one time after the attack to the A.I.M. base… But anyway, Baron Zemo is not panicked, he’s simply mildly surprised because… why is Rogers hugging him? Hasn’t Zemo hurt him? Hasn’t Zemo been unpleasant to him? Yes, yes he has… so _why is Steven Grant Rogers aka Captain America hugging him like there is no tomorrow????_

_AND WHY IS ZEMO HUGGING HIM BACK????_

And worst… why is Zemo _melting_ into Rogers’ embrace? Fine, it feels different from the hugs Zemo gets from his cousins, but is it really necessary that Zemo’s rebellious muscles relax gradually after the initial shock?, or that his treacherous body feels like it belongs there, in Rogers’ arms?, or that he’s overwhelmed by this feeling of comfort and protection? Captain America is his enemy, for god’s sake; it’s enough that Zemo has come to apologise, this entire embrace nonsense should not be happening!! Yet Baron Zemo’s mind becomes blissfully blank, and all he can focus on is Rogers’ warmth all around him, and Rogers’ breath tickling his neck, and Rogers’ strong chest and arms, and Rogers’ big warm hands hooked on his shoulders. Zemo feels so good he can’t bring himself to care what his father would think if he knew about this. He allows himself to close his eyes for a brief moment and put just a little bit more of strength on his arms, wrapped around Rogers, who sighs in contentment.

Captain America is not an impulsive man, but he definitely makes an exception when he’s confronted with Zemo – the German makes him want to do things without thinking, like this embrace. It didn’t need to happen, yet here is Rogers, nestled on Zemo’s arms and holding to him for dear life. The German is warm and strong and when he squeezes Rogers a little bit more, Captain America feels on the verge of tears as a sudden emotional discharge washes over him – just moments ago he was mentally chastising himself for his approach to Zemo the previous day and coming to terms with the thought that he had deserved the German’s remark about his «insomnia», while trying to muster the courage to go talk to Zemo once the two of them had cooled down and try to undo the damage; now he feels safe and warm and just had more proof that Zemo is indeed a good man, and the Avengers hug him sometimes but it’s nothing with this level of… Rogers doesn’t know what is this, but it feels good, too good. He could have never had the chance to experience it.

He shuts his eyes as his breath gets caught in his throat. He clenches his jaw, making an effort to pull himself together – he’s Captain America, afterall! He can’t just… cry simply because he feels like it.

“Steven?” Zemo’s voice sounds low and quiet, and Rogers lets out a shaky breath, hoping his small breakdown will go undetected.

But Zemo, having felt a sudden tension and caught an irregularity on the rising and falling of Rogers’ chest against his, forces some distance between them and tips Rogers’ head up with his thumb and index finger, being met by Rogers’ teary eyes.

Alarm bells go berserk in Zemo’s mind: Captain America about to cry is almost as scary as Heinrich Zemo. Alright, _anyone who’s close to Zemo_ about to cry is terrifying and super-villain Baron Zemo is not prepared to deal with it properly, so Zemo addresses the situation the only way he knows:

“Do not dare!!!” And he clumsily wipes with his thumb a lonely tear that is rolling down Rogers’ eyes cheek.

Captain America chuckles and looks away, ashamed and reddened, while at the same time feeling oddly peaceful and light. He hates crying or showing disturbance in front of his friends and unsettle them, and Zemo is clearly affected by it – for this, Rogers should feel bad… yet he doesn’t, being glad for the fact since it can only mean that _Baron Zemo cares for him_. That _he means something_ to the German.

“Sorry, I just…” Rogers starts, then offers Zemo an embarrassed smile as his need for crying leaves him. They stare at each other for a moment, but the silence between them isn’t deafening anymore. “Do… do you want to go out for a walk?”

* * *

 

The day had started rainy, but by now the sky is clear and the sun shines, warming New York City despite the vernal chilly breeze.

Captain America and Baron Zemo, in their suits and sitting shoulder to shoulder on a bench at a small local park, make a surprising view to the occasional person that passes by taking a stroll during lunch break, or hurriedly returning to work, or jogging, or walking the dogs, or taking their kids to a nearby playground. Sometimes butterflies and bees flutter around them, since there’s a small flower garden behind the bench; and for three times a diabolical squirrel, living on the pine tree next to the bench and stretching its branches above it, has dropped pine nuts and cones on Zemo’s head.

Bombardments aside, it’s a quiet place and Rogers and Zemo enjoy the comfortable silence between them by taking in their surroundings.

“So…” Rogers says softly after a while in silence. “… you went to the workshop to fix the toaster,” And turns his head to look at Zemo. Rogers needs to know what happened according to Zemo, and hopes trying to talk about it won’t upset the German.

Zemo sighs tiredly, and deep down he’s glad Rogers is still interested to know his version of things:

“I went to the workshop to fix the toaster, but before I walked in I decided to listen to what the others were talking about me. Call it market survey, if you want,” Zemo pauses and frowns. “False statements about my personality aside-“ Captain America chuckles. “-I was very pleased with what I heard. Until…” And Zemo pauses, taking a moment to ask himself what the actual heck is he doing, complaining with all honesty to Captain America about the Avengers not trusting him, not finding him good enough.

Heinrich Zemo is certainly kicking and screaming in his grave.

“Until…?” Rogers asks softly. Like a pouting child, Zemo crosses his arms and legs and looks away:

“I… it merely annoyed me that some of them still do not trust me, despite my constant proving of my good will and intentions…” he grunts.

A moment of silence follows and another pine cone falls, narrowly avoiding Zemo’s shoulder.

“It hurt you,” Rogers states carefully –he doesn’t want to antagonize the German again, aware that it has been too little time for Zemo to properly deal with his feelings about the whole situation.

 _Baron Zemo is not sentimental about this, no way._ It’s merely a perfect opportunity to put his brilliant plan of destroying the Avengers to action, and if it requires his confession to Captain America that fine, he’s a bit hurt about the whole thing, so be it! Exclusively, E-X-C-L-U-S-I-V-E-L-Y for the greater good of his plan:

“Perhaps…” Zemo grunts and blushes for no reason. Blessed be his pink mask…

Another moment of silence follows and a dog barks nearby. From the playground across the park comes the shrill laughter of children.

“Oh, Helmut…” Rogers whispers, and he’s both melting for the fact that super-villain Baron Zemo cares about the Avengers’ opinions on him and feeling again that overwhelming need to reach out for Zemo and hug him and comfort him and-

He does exactly that. He reaches out for the German and wraps his arms around him and pulls him close.

Zemo grumbles something about Rogers being sappy, but relaxes gradually into the embrace – again, his treacherous body rebelling against him – and wraps his arms around Rogers as well. This is the second hug Baron Zemo gets from Captain America that day and the German starts to think he might get an overdose if Rogers doesn’t stop it. Or if he doesn’t stop allowing Rogers to hug him. Resting his chin on Rogers’ shoulder and sighing in defeat, evil super-villain Baron Zemo allows himself to enjoy the warmth and closeness and comfort and security being given to him – after all, it’s not every day he’s given affection.

In fact, hadn’t it been for his cousins (and now Rogers), Zemo wouldn’t even properly recall when he was last hugged like this. Like he’s important and cared for. It was many, many decades ago, and his memories are foggy and tricky, unleashing the things he doesn’t want to remember everytime he makes an effort to reach a fond memory.

 _Baron Zemo is not emotionally needy._ Baron Zemo is a superior being and he’s above such things. But he also won’t say no to free affection.

“And I did not put you to sleep so that I could take revenge on Ant-Man and his poor craftsmanship… I meant to help you,” Zemo suddenly grunts and sighs, his breathing tickling Rogers’ neck and sending pleasant shivers down his spine:

“I know, I’m sorry about that…” Rogers says in a hoarse voice, immediately clearing his throat.

They remain in each other’s arms for a moment. Rogers wonders what would happen if he slid his hands down Zemo’s neck, down his broad shoulders, down his muscled back… An image of Zemo, lying on his bed reading a book, dressed in a grey turtleneck and black cargo pants floats before Rogers’ eyes, and he sees again the muscled arms and back defined by the fabric, and those perfectly round and athletic buttocks that- Little does Rogers suspects that Zemo, too, wonders what would happen if he moved his hands from their comfortable position on the small of Rogers’ neck and allowed them to slowly slide down Rogers’ large shoulders and muscled back. The Episode Of The Sinful T-Shirt resurfaces from the darkest corner of Zemo’s mind, and he sees Rogers’ sculpted back and torso and arms again and –

From the top of the pine tree, the resident evil and ill-timed squirrel runs from one branch to another, causing a cone to break and fall with some leaves on the unsuspecting super-hero and super-villain sitting on the bench bellow. Rogers yelps in surprise as the cone lands on his head and Zemo nearly jumps out of his skin at Rogers’ yelp and at the leaves raining down on him.

Outraged – for the abrupt end of his daydream or for the new bombardment, Zemo can’t tell – the German jumps to his feet and waves a closed fist at the squirrel/pine tree:

“You shall feel the wrath of Zemo!!” he growls, and would have climbed the tree after the furry foe if Rogers, in a fit of laughter and red of embarrassment for his thoughts, hadn’t pulled him away with a promise of waffles with ice cream.

* * *

 

The small ice cream parlour is practically empty at that time of the day, but still Zemo refuses to remove his mask and simply rolls it up his nose bridge.

For some reason, Rogers isn’t surprised that Zemo’s ice cream combination of choice is lemon/chocolate – and if Hawkeye comes to know of it, there will be a lot of jokes about Zemo’s usual sourness and his liking of lemon ice cream.

“I’m going to plan a new team-building training,” Rogers announces halfway through the layer of cream separating him from his ice cream and waffles. Across the table, Zemo stops mid-action from cutting a bit of waffle and frowns at Rogers:

“Do I really have to go…?” he grunts, and Captain America nods, and though he’s smiling kindly there’s something about it that leaves no room for Zemo to escape from this. Resigned, Zemo resumes to enjoying his ice cream and waffles, and for a while a comfortable silence stretches between them.

Between glancing outside through the window and back to his own ice cream with waffles, Rogers begins to observe Zemo discreetly. Seems today he feels especially drawn to the German for some unknown reason, and while back at the park he was allowing his mind go to forbidden places with a memory of Zemo reading on his bed, now seems his highly imaginative and restless – and inappropriate - mind has found a new target. Namely, the suddenly highly alluring scar on the corner of Zemo’s mouth, across his lips, and the visible lower half of the large scar on the left side of his face. Rogers forgets to eat and simply stares at Zemo, wondering why he would willingly scar his face for the rest of his life like that – not that the scars don’t suit him, because they sure do, and-

“Steven?” The German’s voice, mildly amused, breaks Rogers’ train of thought and Captain America blinks his eyes quickly, like he had been sleeping awake and has just awaken for real. “What are you looking at?”

Rogers almost blurts out something about the duelling scars, but his mind makes an astonishing recovery and goes back to the team-building training. But what if, instead of a training, it’s merely an activity? To make everyone comfortable around each other?

“You can ride on horseback, right?” Rogers asks excitedly, because he just had the most brilliant idea. Zemo raises an eyebrow and tilts his head:

“Of course I can, Steven: I am a _baron_ …”

“Great! We’re all going for a ride this weekend, I know just the place!”

So, besides being artsy, seems Captain America can ride on horseback as well. Zemo finds it interesting… and he’s looking forwards to the weekend. He smiles widely, picks up his mobile from one of his belt pouches and looks up for something in it.

Rogers watches curiously, and raises his eyebrows in surprise when Zemo shows him a picture of a beautiful black horse with two white markings on the hind legs:

“That is Schatten H., my younger horse. A fine ten year-old Sächsisch-Thüringisches Schweres Warmblut,” Zemo tells proudly, then adds when Rogers forces a smile. “Saxon-Thuringian Heavy Warmblood…”

“Of course it has to be Saxon…” Rogers teases with a smile. Zemo snorts, looks for another picture, and shows Rogers another horse, dark brown, almost black, and with white markings on all legs and head:

“And this is Lava III, my older horse, an equally fine 30-year-old Saxon-Thuringian,” Zemo puts his mobile inside a belt pouch again. “I haven’t had the chance to ride since I fell and broke-“

Zemo strops abruptly, clenching his jaw. It feels strange to talk about it now that the super-soldier serum is in his system, and he considers trying his luck and avoid the subject. Rogers, however, pokes innocently at his ice cream with the fork:

“And broke?” he asks quietly. Zemo sighs, defeated, and takes out his sudden frustration in cutting his waffles to small, almost symmetric pieces:

“I broke my hip and femur, some years ago…” he grunts and chews angrily at a bit of waffle and ice cream. “I was training Schatten, he was young and fiery and I was an old and feeble fool. I fell, had to undergo surgery and my mobility decreased… Aging is a terrible thing, you were lucky to have never experienced it…”

Rogers grimaces, tapping his fork on a waffle:

“But you watched the world change, you adapted… You had your cousins… Me? I was stuck in the ice and had nobody there for me…” he says, bitterness written all over his face. His heart clenches, and he doesn’t feel like finishing his ice cream and waffles anymore:

“Watching the world changing was terrifying, Steven! All I believe in was destroyed!” Zemo complains, stabbing with his fork another innocent piece of waffle. “Now you have your Avengers, you do not need to complain anymore about being alone in a strange world. I, on the other hand, have an ocean and a bunch of super-heroes between me and my cousins!”

Rogers purses his lips:

“You do realise the serum has made me… and has made you… nearly immortal, right? If we don’t die in battle, I’m going to outlive my friends… and you’ll outlive many generations of your relatives…”

Zemo looks sharply at Rogers, clenching his jaw. Baron Zemo was aware of it when he injected himself with his father’s super-soldier serum – that he had doomed himself to loneliness and to watch all his loved ones pass away. But sacrifices must be made for the greater good, for the legacy of Heinrich Zemo and the triumph of Hydra - and Zemo must confess he’s very happy for being able to walk without the aid of a cane.

Captain America rests an elbow on the table and supports his head on his palm, looking melancholic. Zemo is already used to Rogers’ dizzying smiles, and this sadness on _his enemy’s_ face disturbs him:

“Do you ever feel… dislocated? Out of time?” Rogers asks. He never had the chance to talk about this before: first, he doesn’t want to bother his friends – Tony accurately calls him «nostalgia guy» - and second… they wouldn’t understand. They don’t know what it was like – though maybe Thor would, being a god…

Rogers remembers the first attempt at a hypnotherapy session, remembers Zemo sharing with him there’s a seven years’ difference between them. Despite being younger than Captain America, Zemo _was there_ , knows the world Rogers came from and misses so much sometimes. How strange is that (rehabbing) super-villain Baron Zemo is closer to Rogers in a way none of the Avengers can be? Zemo, stuck in the past because of his father and ideals he grew up with; and Rogers, stuck in the past for the friends he lost and life he didn’t get to live.

“Sometimes, yes…” Zemo replies lowly, barely a resigned whisper, and Rogers is so distracted he almost doesn’t listen.

But mostly, Zemo feels extremely lonely.

Rogers feels lonely too, sometimes, even though he has the greatest friends he could ever wish for. His heart and the pit of his stomach clench, and he feels again an overwhelming fondness towards the man sitting with him at the table. Rogers looks at Zemo with wide eyes, realising something.

They don’t need to be alone. They have each other to talk to, to understand each other.

By the way Zemo chokes on ice cream and coughs, he must have come to the same conclusion as Rogers. How ironic that Baron Zemo’s greatest enemy is also the only man who can understand him… A good, caring, handsome man/sworn enemy/assassin of Baron Heinrich Zemo the Twelfth.

Wanting to change the subject urgently, Zemo thinks quickly and steals a bit of ice cream from Rogers.

A battle for ice cream ensues, and Zemo will need to think twice before calling the other Avengers «childish» again. Also, Captain America plays dirty and treacherously kicks under the table.

* * *

 

Some time after speaking to Zemo, Thor grows bored of being in his bedroom and goes to the living room to watch TV. He manages to make some popcorn without breaking anything (Stark will be proud of him) and sits in his favourite spot on the couch to watch cartoons.

Besides Thor, some of the Avengers – namely Hawkeye and the Hulk – are also magically able to detect when food is nearby, and shortly after Thor settled in for a session of cartoons, Clint and the Hulk sit next to him, lying siege on his bowl of popcorn:

“So, can we please go back to normal? I’m kinda tired of all this tension in the air…” Clint complains and is the first to attack. Quickly, he snatches a handful of popcorn from Thor’s bowl. The Asgardian, flanked by his glutton friends, hunches over the bowl in a useless attempt to protect what his rightfully his:

“I have spoken to the Baron, but I can only hope he follows my advice…” Thor shares, and somehow one of the Hulk’s gigantic hands manages to sneak into the bowl and grab some popcorn:

“What did you tell Sock-Face?” the Hulk asks, savouring the stolen popcorn. Thor hurriedly stuffs his mouth, since he won’t be left in peace to snack:

“That the Captain surely was not the right target to his wrath!!”

“Yeah, I also think he just wanted to throttle Tony… And maybe Scott, too…” Hawkeye confesses, and grabs another handful of popcorn. “Cap just got caught in the middle. Maybe we should get Zemo to some kind of zen therapy… you know, make him calm down a little…”

“What did Tony do?” And since Hawkeye is sharing the latest news, the Hulk switches off the TV. Thor immediately switches it on again – since when the son of Odin is not allowed to watch cartoons???

“Other than making fun of Zemo? Nothing… I think Zemo overheard us talking about him in the workshop, yesterday. He went there to fix the toaster you broke _again_ , big green…” Hawkeye grabs yet another handful of popcorn, and so does the Hulk, and Thor stuffs his mouth again. “Then Zemo not only fixed the toaster, but also the sights of Scott’s gun and said some untranslatable gibberish. Tony had that aneurism face he makes and was pretty mad about Zemo showing up fixing stuff and fooling his translating software.”

The Hulk chuckles and Thor puts the now empty popcorn bowl on the coffee table in front of the couch:

“He might have found your gossiping offensive. The Baron is a sensitive man,” Thor states. He truly likes Zemo and has almost forgotten he’s a rehabbing supper-villain: tantrums and arrogance aside, the German is a pleasant company and a great gaming companion… not to mention that he’s a nobleman, and Thor, prince of Asgard, must confess he likes to hang out with noble peers once in a while.

“I bet he washes that pink sock of his with softener…” the Hulk says, and they laugh at that. Then Hawkeye frowns:

“Talking about that… have any of you ever seen his face?” Clint asks, and both Thor and the Hulk shake their heads negatively.

Sam plops on one of the other free couches, stretching his legs and arms and enjoying having one comfy couch just for himself:

“I need to watch the weather forecast, I’m going on a field trip tomorrow!” he announces, reaching for the remote and zapping quickly in search for a news channel.

Thor groans, upset; seems this is the day the Norse god can’t enjoy popcorn and cartoons:

“Why don’t you use your mobile phone?” Thor complains, making Falcon smile innocently:

“But that wouldn’t annoy you!”

Everyone but Thor laughs. Falcon comes across the DBC channel, and he’s about to move on when Jameson’s face pops up on the screen, announcing some shocking breaking news. Fearing it may be an alien invasion or the Red Skull trying to take over the world again, Falcon stays on that channel and everyone pays close attention to it:

“As I’ve always said, super-heroes are a super-menace to our community!” Jameson starts, pointing threateningly at the camera. The Avengers roll their eyes and Falcon is about to change the channel, but then Jameson proceeds. “Shocking footage of Captain America fraternizing with one of his arch-enemies has just been sent to us by a concerned citizen who captured the moment when walking their dog!”

The Avengers collectively gasp when a mobile-recorded video from across a flower garden replaces Jameson on the screen: Captain America and Baron Zemo are in a park, sitting on a bench and talking, when suddenly Rogers pulls Zemo into a tight embrace that is promptly replied by the German – embrace that lasts for a while, with the two men resting their chins on each other’s shoulders, and that ends only because a pine cone fell of Rogers’ head and some leaves dared to land on Zemo’s:

“He’s threatening the tree, that’s so Zemo…” Hawkeye utters in disbelief, but the Avengers don’t even have time to laugh at Clint’s comment: the video is replaced again by Jameson, in studio, and he proceeds, slamming his closed fist on the desk:

“That’s right, citizens of New York!! Captain America, the beloved hero of millions of Americans, was seen today in a park, hugging none other than Baron Zemo, top scientist of the infamous terrorist organization Hydra!!”

“At least he didn’t call Zemo a Nazi…” Falcon says, trying to see the least bad side of things. In the large screen behind Jameson, a picture of a masked Helmut Zemo appears, then a series of footage of the Avengers and Baron Zemo fighting off criminals:

“Baron Zemo was last seen in public as Citizen V with his band of misfits The Thunderbolts! After quick research, the Daily Bugle came across an online interview of the infamous villain in the blog of one of the Avengers’ mother-“

“Ups…” Falcon whimpers and shrinks into the couch:

“-where the villain claims to be under the Avengers’ custody, more precisely Captain America’s, living in the Avengers Tower, that eyesore in our beautiful city, and rehabbing into goodness! The Daily Bugle’s research noticed this blog entry was dated from October last year, which means this menace in a pink mask has been walking freely among us for _months_!!! Furthermore, various videos in YouTube show the Hydra terrorist fighting alongside the Avengers, but is he _really_ in their side??” Jameson slams a closed fist on his desk again. “One must ask: Captain America, what the hell are you doing?!?”

Falcon finally switches off the TV, not even curious about the weather forecast anymore. The Avengers are torn between laughing because Rogers and Zemo were just seen hugging in the national television or brace themselves for the outcome of these shocking breaking news: Fury _is not_ going to be happy about this – in fact, the Avengers aren’t even sure of how much the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. knows about Baron Zemo’s rehab into goodness.

The moment the TV is off, Tony Stark emerges from the lift, hair dishevelled, carrying a pair of jet boots and looking like he’ll drink all the coffee in the world. Hawkeye turns on the couch and decides this is the perfect opportunity to share with Iron Man the latest news:

“You just missed Cap and Zemo hugging on the TV,” he informs. Thor frowns at the archer:

“You make it sound like it is a bad thing! I am glad that my friends are happy with each other again! The Baron followed my advice and made peace with the Captain!”

Iron Man blinks his eyes slowly:

“Uh??” he grunts eloquently. “But… this morning…”

“They have made peace!” Thor beams joy and raises a victorious fist in the air. Tony, however, shakes his head and frowns:

“Really?? Zemo offends me like that in my own house and Cap goes around hugging him????” He looks at the jet boots, and he swears that he’ll sneak on Zemo when the German is asleep, put the boots on him and watch in delight as the German disappears into the sunset.

Iron Man’s plans of getting rid of Annoyance Zemo are interrupted as F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces that Director Fury wants to talk to the Avengers now, and he wants to complain about a few things: first, Rogers isn’t picking up his phone; second, Fury had agreed that Zemo would stay _in_ the Avengers Tower… not that he would walk around fighting crime and getting hugs in parks; third, why wasn’t he warned sooner that evil menace Baron Zemo is pretty much on the loose with the naivest of super-heroes, the one who sees good in everybody and believes all should have a second chance.

While Tony deals with Fury, F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces that the head of the Avengers' merchandise department is calling in to know if Zemo is to be included in the merchandise too.

* * *

 

In the meantime, Captain America and Baron Zemo are blissfully unaware that they were on TV. Having left the ice cream parlour, they leisurely make their way back to the Avengers Tower in companionable silence. Today, Baron Zemo doesn’t want to think about plans of destroying the Avengers and Captain America and avenge his father and pursue Heinrich Zemo’s legacy. All he cares is that he’s glad that he listened to Thor, that he had the gut to apologise to Rogers, that he got unrequited yet welcomed hugs and that he just had some delicious ice cream with waffles.

All things considered, a day that started off so badly for them ended up just fine. There is simply one thing that annoys them, but that they’re both bravely trying to dismiss for the sake of not making things awkward and turn a pleasant day into a headache – their sudden and highly inappropriate interest in each other. The two of them, however, strongly believe this interest was caused by the roller-coaster of emotions they experienced in so little time.

The sunny day turned into a cloudy evening and the breeze is now wind. Returning through the park where they made their first stop, Rogers and Zemo cross paths with a woman hurriedly returning home with a baby in her arms and a dog on a leash trotting animatedly next to her. As they walk by, the baby turns his head slightly to look at them and smiles widely. Captain America smiles as well, and his eyes automatically fix on Zemo, glancing over his shoulder as they walk away. Rogers wants to imagine the German smiling at the baby, but there’s something sad about the way Zemo sighs and looks ahead again.

Rogers bites his lower lip softly:

“Do you want kids of your own?” he asks, suddenly realising the world of super-heroes (and maybe super-villains) isn’t the best to establish a family. Zemo sighs again:

“I would love to,” he replies quietly. He has spent his whole life living up to his father’s legacy, but there is one thing that Helmut Zemo, so far, failed to follow on Heinrich Zemo’s footsteps: marriage and kids.

“Why not settling down, then?” Rogers asks conversationally, even though he’s pretty clueless when it comes to relationships. Zemo casts him a deadpan look:

“Do you seriously think that I have the time and availability to look for a suitable wife and invest in a relationship?” he asks, a hint of irritation thickening his accent. Then he frowns and stops, pointing an accusing finger at Captain America. “Besides… the Zemo lineage dies with me, remember? My descendant from 2099 was erased from existence!”

Rogers stops, smiling sadly. Does Zemo really believes what he’s saying? That because a monstrous cyborg is gone, it’s the end of the Zemo family?

“Have you considered that now your descendent from 2099 can be a _human_ , and not a cyborg?” Rogers asks quietly, and Zemo narrows his eyes. “The future isn’t set in stone, Helmut.”

Baron Zemo is speechless, because he hadn’t thought like that. For him, it was simple: with the Zemo of 2099 gone, he would be the last Zemo; but now that Rogers mentioned that… maybe he had sealed a different, human fate for his lineage the moment he kicked his father back into the time portal… maybe he would have descendants, but proper men instead of a monstrous cycloptic cyborg.

Well… he hadn’t even liked the Zemo from 2099…

Rogers’ perspective is comforting and reassuring, and Zemo offers him a smile, momently forgotten that Captain America can’t see it because of the mask covering Zemo’s face. They proceed in companionable silence again, but while Rogers is apparently relaxed, his mind is set in chaos: to begin with, what does he has to do with Zemo wanting kids or not, it’s none of his business; but the thought of the German having children is endearing, and maybe the kids would be blond and violet-eyed like their father; and what nonsense is that of Zemo not having time to invest in a relationship, he doesn’t even need to have time because he could have anyone he wanted – who wouldn’t want a wealthy baron, charming and caring when not in a bad mood, and intelligent and dedicated and handsome and muscled and with some scars that are kinda sens-

Captain America shakes his head vigorously and okay, something’s wrong with him and maybe he’s spending too much time with Zemo and starting to imagine things:

“Join me for sword-fighting after dinner?” Zemo asks suddenly, oblivious to Rogers’ problem:

“Sure!” Steve Rogers, the man who’s spending too much time with Zemo and starting to imagine things, replies immediately.

* * *

 

When they reach the living floor, Hawkeye is making magnificent sandwiches for everyone – except for Zemo, who, being a baron, obviously doesn’t eat sandwiches for dinner.

But the assembling of sandwiches stops the moment Rogers and Zemo step out of the lift, and a heavy silence grows among everyone. It doesn’t last, however: Thor, who was finally watching his cartoons, jumps from the couch and strides to his friends with open arms to embrace them.

This is the day Baron Zemo might suffer an overdose of hugs.

“Friends! You have made peace!” Thor exclaims cheerfully and wraps his arms around Rogers and Zemo. Rogers laughs and Zemo pats Thor’s shoulder awkwardly:

“Yes, thank you…” he grunts, but he’s honestly grateful to the Asgardian.

Iron Man materializes behind Thor and gently pulls him away from Captain America and Zemo. Tony is not amused, carrying the same angry expression of when someone steals his tech:

“Fury called in because you two were hugging on the news and Captain America decided not to answer his phone,” he informs dryly, leaving unsaid the merchandise subject – the last thing the world needs are Zemo plushies and keychains…

Rogers bites his lower lip softly; what was he thinking, of course super-heroes are not allowed to not answer phone calls and be left in peace… He’s about to assure Tony he’ll call Fury right away when his brain finally registers the most important thing in Tony’s statement. Zemo, however, gets there first:

“What do you mean by the two of us hugging on the news?” the German asks suspiciously, one of his greatest concerns coming to life and irreparably ruining the nice day he just had:

“Breaking news on the BDC: someone filmed you two in a park, hugging. Jameson is wondering what the heck you’re doing, Cap…” Clint summarizes, and he’s trying not to laugh because a nervous twitch in Zemo’s right eye is showing through the mask.

The nervous twitch, however, is nothing compared to the redness that takes over Rogers’ face – and can super-soldiers faint? Because Rogers sure feels like fainting. And never waking up. Never, ever again. He shouldn’t be feeling this embarrassed because he was caught hugging a man – a man friend, a beautiful man friend, everyone hugs everyone nowadays!!!! – but what if he made some sort of pervy face when he was thinking about Zemo’s arms and back and butt and it was caught on camera??? Lord on heavens, what if he actually started to grope Zemo and didn’t realise about it and the German was too scared to react and it was all broadcast to the entire nation and Zemo spent the whole day feeling uncomfortable around him and-

“Cap? Cap??” Tony’s hand on Rogers’ shoulders startles him and he feels off balance, though he’s standing firmly and rigidly next to an equally petrified Zemo. “Are you okay? Are you even breathing??”

No, Rogers isn’t breathing. All he can think of are his treacherous grabby hands, a traumatized Zemo and sneaky paparazzis. He doesn’t have the gut to look at any of the Avengers in the eye, nor look at Zemo, who’s simply standing there with a nervous twitch and very inappropriate vocabulary demanding to be unleashed.

_Baron Zemo is so screwed, what will his Hydra peers think???_

The Avengers are quick to notice Captain America and Zemo are not fine, and considering that Rogers is a humble and rather shy man and that Zemo is a very do-not-touch-me type of guy, maybe they shouldn’t have given them the news like that…

Concerned that Zemo’s bad mood will strike again – and choose an innocent victim, like Rogers – Thor decides to act quickly. He gently pulls Zemo to a couch, disturbed with the frequency of the German’s nervous eye twitching:

“Displays of camaraderie and brotherly love are perfectly acceptable!” Thor exclaims in his booming voice, and the words «displays», «love» and «acceptable» feel like physical blows to Rogers, who flinches.

Captain America is _terrified and confused_. Iron Man, fearing his friend is having a seizure, carefully rests a hand on his shoulder:

“Steve? Hey, it’s alright! I was just saying you two were in the news, I’m not mad about that or about having to deal with Fury…” he says softly, but the brave Captain America just wants to run away and hide and never show up again.

“I could smash Jameson!” the Hulk offers, worried about Rogers: Zemo overreacting about something is normal, but Rogers? No, something is not right.

Just when things are getting out of hand and Rogers is preparing for a daring run into his bedroom and Zemo is about to demonstrate the world he too knows a ton of swear words, Black Widow runs out of the lift, visibly distressed, but sighs in relief when finding all the Avengers – and Baron Zemo – gathered in the living room:

“Welcome back and please don’t talk about the news!!!” Clint salutes from behind the kitchen isle, surrounded by mighty sandwiches. Unfortunately, that's exactly the subject Widow has in mind:

“Yeah, about that… the Red Skull has put a bounty on Zemo’s head…” she tells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor ships them and the world needs Zemo plushies and keychains.
> 
> As always, I'm interested in your opinion about this fic. :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your support!! ;-; Really appreciated!  
> Also, quick update because I'll be gone for the weekend and half the next week and really wanted to update before going.

The weight of the world falls on Rogers’ shoulders and now not only he feels like a pervert, but also like he has just personally signed Zemo’s death sentence. How could he have been so careless? How could he have given in and hugged Zemo in a place everyone could see? Now here is the result: they had been on the news and there was a bounty on Zemo’s head for being a traitor.

With a whimper, Rogers finally looks at Zemo.

And oh, Baron Zemo is _wrathful_ , shaking with badly contained anger. Thor has both hands on his shoulders, trying to placate him, but the German shrugs the Asgardian away and strides back towards Rogers – and Captain America flinches in anticipation, and Zemo is right, this is all his fault, if only he had kept his hands to himself-

“I do not believe that,” Zemo hisses in his velvety voice that is a portent of doom. Rogers leans heavily on Iron Man, confused, because Zemo isn’t blaming him.

Natasha sighs and shows Zemo a small pen drive that had been concealed in her gauntlet. Understanding, Falcon quickly gives Widow the tablet he was using and she inserts the pen drive in it:

“S.H.I.E.L.D. has hacked a few Hydra communication channels and came across this. Just when I was leaving, thinking about a week off, Fury called me to see it,” she tells, cool as always, but the way she returned to the Tower gave away how concerned she was about the safety of her friends since Zemo is living with them.

A hologram pops up from the tablet with the Hydra logo that is then replaced by the Red Skull making a speech on how rumours that Baron Zemo has betrayed Hydra turned out to be true – and, for that, he should be executed; Zemo is wanted dead or alive and his capture is worth a fortune; if dead, his body is to be taken to the Red Skull to confirm the death and then be buried in a shallow and unmarked grave – an offense for a nobleman whose forefathers rest in peace in the vast crypts under the Zemo castle in Leipzig. 

The hologram wavers and disappears. Rogers is pale, like he’s the one having a bounty on his head. Clint considers try to make things brighter and crack a joke like the Avengers handing over Zemo and donating the money to bankrupt nobility families across the world – but he opts for remaining silent.

“Schmidt dares!!” Zemo snarls, lowly, and steps back with clenched fists. “He _dares_!!!”

“Right… Look, how about-“ Tony tries, but it’s too late: Zemo is out of control, yelling and snarling about how the Red Skull has no right to do this; that the Red Skull simply can’t do this; that Baron Helmut Zemo is the son of Baron Heinrich Zemo, one of the founding members of Hydra; that he is the best scientist and leader Hydra ever had after the previous Baron Zemo; that Johann Schmidt is going to regret this offense. In his wrath, Zemo starts mixing up English and German, and it’s the first time the Avengers truly see Baron Zemo so furious.

Rogers’ military instinct kicks in, and he slowly comes to his senses and finds the strength to push to the back of his mind the confusing feelings regarding Zemo and his concerns about the public hug. The main priority now is stopping Zemo from spontaneously self-combusting. To achieve that, Rogers does the unthinkable and approaches Zemo, holding his wrists and stopping him from gesticulating:

“Calm down, Helmut!” he commands, but the German merely shakes his wrists free and narrows his eyes:

“ _Calm down_???? I will, after having Schmidt’s head on a silver plate!!” Zemo barks in return. “I am going to kill them!! Hydra has been needing a cleansing and this is the perfect opportunity!!”

Sam nudges Clint softly:

“Is it just me, or he’s talking like he’s still in Hydra?” he asks in a whisper, and Clint shrugs:

“I’m willing to give him the benefit of doubt… You know, shock and all…” Hawkeye admits.

Zemo, however, means exactly what he says: since his father died that Hydra needs a good clean up… and he shall do it right now! Who is Schmidt to dare accuse him of treason?? For the record, nobody has never been so close to destroying the Avengers and Captain America like Zemo is: is he a traitor, then?? No! Baron Zemo is a misunderstood genius!!

Pushing Rogers, he intends to stride to the lift, go to the helipad, ride a Sky-Cycle and go make justice with his own hands. However, Rogers holds one of his arms and spins him around:

“Stand down, soldier,” Rogers warns, a hint of danger in his commanding tone, and the Avengers watching the scene kinda wish they had popcorn. The Hulk holds his breath in anticipation: is it finally time to Smash…?

Zemo looks like he’ll jump at Rogers’ throat… but after a tense hesitation, his shoulders sag a little, he lets out a long and hissing breath and the tension dissipates in the muscled arm Rogers is holding:

“I will not sit here waiting,” Zemo grunts. “You either join me, or let me go take care of this.”

Think of it, this is a very profitable situation for both parties: if the Avengers go with Zemo, they have the chance to be leaded to unknown Hydra facilities and get their hands on the dangerous masterminds behind the organisation’s many tentacles – namely, capture the Red Skull again, whose whereabouts have been unknown for a while; and with the Avengers’ aid, Zemo has much more chances of doing a clean-up on Hydra and clear the path to later assume total control of Hydra – something that Heinrich Zemo had also wanted to do.

It’s clearly a win/win situation… problem is going to be for Zemo to destroy the Avengers (and Captain America) first, and then triumphantly and definitely take over Hydra – that, in the meantime, will have to survive without its powerful leaders. It’s a risky gamble, because any twit with half a brain can show up and take control of things, and then Zemo will be back to stage zero…

Baron Zemo doesn’t like to gamble. As a highly strategic man, he likes situations where he can clearly predict the outcome, where he can dictate cause and consequence. Cleansing Hydra with the Avengers will both scare enough the lower ranks to shush them, but will also antagonize powerful allies and turn them into enemies.

That, of course, if they haven’t watched the news yet…

Zemo’s mind is whirling with plans and «what ifs», but he needs to make a decision. _Now._ He’ll change from strategy to tactics, from the long run to the immediate result; right now, Rogers and the Avengers are the tools that can more easily give him a victory over Hydra forces.

He sighs:

“Crossbones must be on his way, Taskmaster might want payback for what happened in the warehouse, Schmidt and Strucker are hiding in their lairs and Zola… I might know where he is…” the German growls angrily.

All these names interest the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. – and especially Rogers. He releases Zemo’s arm and looks at his team, waiting for confirmation. He gets a collective nod from the Avengers, and looks back to Zemo:

“You’re not alone, Helmut,” And it brings back pleasant memories from only hours ago, from a heartfelt hug in the park and ice cream with waffles. Also, Rogers had thought that none of them needed to be alone anymore, hadn’t he? He hadn’t had the chance to voice it before, his ice cream had been under attack… but he has just done it now. He can only hope Zemo will understand what he means.

Baron Zemo, however, is more concerned about hurrying up and attacking before being attacked. His father had always taught him that the attack is the best defence, and the sooner he’s done with cleansing Hydra, the sooner he can return to the problem at hands – his brilliant plan to destroy the Avengers and Captain America, that is revealing to be trickier than what Zemo had first thought.

In an initial phase, it had been easier to simply look at Rogers as an enemy and merely hate him…

* * *

 

Captain America, Thor, Falcon, Clint and Natasha rush to the jet, ready for battle and hurriedly eating their sandwiches – Baron Zemo grudgingly allows Rogers to convince him to eat at least a protein bar. The Hulk and Iron Man are staying at the Tower to welcome Crossbones.

Zemo, holding to the back of Thor’s seat during the flight, barks coordinates at Black Widow so that she can take them to Hydra facilities S.H.I.E.L.D. had never guessed existed.

And the first villain they’re paying a visit to is the Red Skull.

By the corner of his eye, Rogers sees how tense Zemo is. Rogers has never seen the German like this, and he must confess he’s impressed with Zemo’s determination – it can’t be easy for him to attack the people who have been his allies since… since ever! Captain America assumes Baron Zemo is simply too outraged to think clearly and that later he will regret this. Maybe Rogers should have stopped him, maybe this is a bad idea… but what a great advantage for the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D., he simply couldn’t let this slip.

Even if now he feels… bad. They are using Zemo and his damnable short temper to achieve something no other super-hero has done before. Rogers sighs and rubs his eyes: when all this is over, he’ll have to sit down with Zemo and have a long, long talk to him about this, make sure there will be no hard feelings – because, like Helmut Zemo has stated earlier, Heinrich Zemo was one of the founding members of Hydra and its most important scientist, and the current Baron is going headfirst against the previous Baron’s work.

The silence in the jet is unbearable and Clint decides to try to make small chat and relieve the atmosphere a bit:

“So, what was that untranslatable gibberish?” he asks, turning on his seat to look at Zemo. Rogers shakes his head at his fellow Avenger, convinced this is not a good time to remind the German of an argument that happened not so long ago. But Zemo just sighs, annoyed:

“I swear on my honour it was still German,” he grunts, instantly killing this and any other attempt at small talk. Right now, Baron Zemo has just one thing in mind and won’t allow superficial distractions.

* * *

 

The Red Skull’s base of operations is in the roots of a mountain in a lonely island. The place is swarming with Hydra soldiers, but the pain and destruction caused by Zemo’s blind wrath becomes a dissuasive factor. Rogers is by Zemo’s side, making sure he doesn’t kill the unfortunate soldiers that cross paths with him, but it’s difficult, even for Captain America, to fight for his own protection while keeping an eye on his team and on Rampage Zemo.

It takes them hours of fighting in dark and long tunnels. The Avengers are tired and bruised, but force themselves to keep up with Zemo, who seems to be unaffected by the endless waves of Hydra soldiers.

Finally, they reach a lab in the very core of the mountain and by the way the Red Skull, sitting at a desk and going through documents, looks up at them, they can tell he didn’t expect them to make it this far. The last handful of Hydra soldiers, guarding the Red Skull, reluctantly charges again the Avengers and Baron Zemo – hopefully, it will buy time for the Red Skull to run away towards a secret passage and make it to his private jet to escape.

Captain America throws his shield at two approaching soldiers, knocking them down, and Zemo leaps over them and darts after the Red Skull. Knowing he can’t leave the Germans alone, Rogers leaves his team in charge of the remaining soldiers and runs after Zemo.

The Red Skull, despite his enhanced physique, never stood a chance against the extremely enraged Baron Zemo – because Zemo plays dirty, and throws his sword at the Red Skull. The sword, rotating through the air vertically, hits the escaping villain on the back of the head with the pommel, instantly knocking him out.

Zemo then removes one of his knives with retractable blade from his belt pouches, and would have stabbed the Red Skull to death if Rogers hadn’t tackled him down and knocked the knife out of his hand:

“We don’t kill people, Helmut! We’re better than that!” And Rogers quickly crawls over Zemo and uses his weight to pin him down, even if he doubts it will stop the German from wriggling and trying to reach his knife again. “Calm down!”

For a long minute, Zemo does all he can to toss Rogers to the side, reach his knife and finish the Red Skull. But he eventually stops, finally feeling the weight of Captain America on him, and lets his head fall back in defeat.

But they are too stressed to actually feel their bodies together.

* * *

 

When the Red Skull regains consciousness, he’s lying on the floor of the Avenjet with his wrists and ankles shackled. With a frown, he lifts his head to look around and access the situation – and there is Baron Zemo, standing with his back turned at the Red Skull and talking quietly to the Avengers:

“Traitor…!” the Red Skull hisses, narrowing his eyes in disbelief – Baron Zemo _is_ _in fact with the Avengers and has just captured the supreme leader of Hydra_!!! Zemo hears something and glances behind, turning around completely as he realises the Red Skull has woken up, and is met by a scornful grin. “Well… I see you made it to the position of Captain America’s new lapdog.”

Zemo narrows his eyes and makes a motion to unsheathe his sword. But Thor holds his arm and Rogers turns his head to look at the Red Skull too:

“I strongly advise you to keep your mouth shut, Skull. I’m not sure Thor and I can hold him down…” Rogers states dryly and Zemo tilts his head menacingly.

The Red Skull, however, isn’t stupid. He knows he has lost (for now), so he better keep to himself and stay alert for an opportunity to escape.

The problem is… there is no chance to run – when the Avenjet lands again, only Captain America and Baron Zemo leave, and the Red Skull remains under the watchful guard of Thor, Falcon, Hawkeye and Black Widow. There is no chatting or bickering among the Avengers, and even the Red Skull begins to feel slightly threatened by the heavy silence.

Sometime later, Rogers and Zemo return hurriedly, carrying between them another unconscious man – that, for the Red Skull’s gaping horror, is none other than Baron Strucker. Which means that they are currently stationed at the secret Hydra base in Bulgaria… and that treacherous Zemo and the Avengers are going after Arnim Zola next – this is a major cleansing of the highest ranks in Hydra, and either Zemo is indeed a traitor and this is the beginning of the end of Hydra… or the sneaky bastard is up to something.

The Red Skull’s only consolation is that Zola is virtually impossible to destroy or restrain…

Baron Strucker’s gauntlet is promptly removed by Zemo, who then shackles him and tosses him next to the Red Skull:

“This foe was not heavily guarded?” Thor asks when Zemo approaches his seat. The Avenjet takes off and the Red Skull and Strucker roll ungraciously on the floor:

“He was asleep: all it took was getting in his chambers, which wasn’t difficult, considering he is Prussian and sleeps in a poorly guarded military tent…” Zemo replies with malicious satisfaction. Clint sighs:

“English, please…” Yet he regrets it the moment Zemo starts explaining the history of Prussia, and how Prussians were militarists, disciplined and austere – it sounds a bit like Germans to Clint, but he doesn’t want to argue with Zemo and have him giving a more scientific lecture on the differences between Prussians and Germans…

Piloting the jet, Natasha yawns discreetly, but not enough to go unnoticed by Captain America:

“Land on the next clearing you find, Widow. You need some rest,” he commands, and Clint and Falcon sigh in satisfaction because they haven’t slept since the day before and keeping up with Baron Zemo on a rampage is almost impossible.

Zemo is not pleased with Rogers’ command, though:

“We must hurry!” he insists. “Our victory relies in surprise, mobility and quick definitive attacks!”

It totally does not sound like the Blitzkrieg…

“Helmut… you, Thor and me can go days without proper rest and food, but Widow, Falcon and Hawkeye aren’t gods nor have a super-soldier serum in their system.”

Zemo is about to call the other Avengers weaklings, but refrains himself in time. Instead, he opts for taking out his frustration by destroying with his sword Strucker’s much prized and beloved gauntlet:

“It _was_ an interesting artifact to be studied by S.H.I.E.L.D….” Natasha states with her usual cool demeanour. “But I guess Iron Man will enjoy making a puzzle…”

The Red Skull simply watches in horror and regrets deeply not having sent henchmen to deal with Zemo the moment he was first taken into a S.H.I.E.L.D. prison… if only, of course, he had known by then Baron Zemo would be this much of a backstabber.

Next to him, Strucker groans and regains his senses, blinking stupidly as he realises his monocle is gone. He then notices he’s shackled and that his gauntlet is gone as well and changes abruptly to a sitting position, looking around frantically and widening his eyes upon seeing the Red Skull, restrained, lying on the floor next to him.

He then notices Zemo, and the broken gauntlet at his feet, and the Avengers, and gasps in indignation:

“Now you not only betray your ideals; you betray your friends too, by sneaking on them while they sleep and kidnap them? The ignominy, Baron Zemo!” Strucker then raises an eyebrow and bares his teeth in disdain. “Or should I say… Baron _Zero_?”

Clint snorts and Rogers shushes him hurriedly: the last thing the Avengers need are two bickering barons and Hawkeye fanning the flames:

“I never called you a friend, Baron _Sucker_ ,” Zemo replies in that dooming velvety voice of his, and Clint can’t hold his laughter despite his best efforts, barking between laughs that Zemo is now his favourite rehabbing super-villain.

It totally does not bring a small smile to Zemo’s lips, nor relieves him a bit from the tension he feels. _Totally not._

The Red Skull and Strucker exchange a look of furious disbelief, and Strucker proceeds to deliver a fatal blow – he wasn’t there to listen to Rogers’ advice to the Red Skull, and Schmidt won’t share the information with him:

“What a shame, I truly liked Heinrich… He deserved a better son; you are _unworthy_ …”

The next moments are chaotic: Zemo roars in rage and strides to Strucker, sword unsheathed and ready to cut his head off; Rogers barely has time to jump at the German and tackle him down before he reaches Strucker; seizing the opportunity, the Red Skull starts to yell at Zemo in German, and Strucker follows his example, and three angry men yelling at each other in German is a situation the Avengers do not want to witness ever again; Rogers alone can’t hold down Zemo, and it takes Rogers and Thor to secure Zemo and drag him into the infirmary kicking and shouting, away from Schmidt and Strucker. The yelling villains are then silenced by Falcon, who simply covers their mouths with duct tape:

“You’re lucky; Zemo would probably use Adhesive X…” Natasha comments with a smirk.

Yet Baron Zemo can only think of the more practical solution – that is, kill both the Red Skull and Baron Strucker. He only stops yelling when Rogers yells louder than him _and at him_ to shut up.

Like a pouting, resentful child, Baron Zemo goes silent. Rogers dismisses Thor, then forces Zemo to sit down on the bench in the middle of the infirmary, closes the door that separates it from the cockpit area and goes to sit next to Zemo. Silence grows between them, tense and deafening, and Rogers decides to break it:

“You are not worthless, are we understood?” he says in a determinate tone, but Zemo doesn’t even look at him. Rogers sighs, tired, and rubs his temples. There’s a prolonged silence between them, until Captain America speaks again. “I’m sorry, Helmut… this is all my fault.”

This time, Zemo does look at Rogers, frowning:

“It wasn’t you who put a bounty on my head and doomed yourself…”

“No, but I hugged you in public,” Troubling is… Rogers is sorry about the mess, but not about having hugged Zemo, or the nice day they spent together. The German rolls his eyes under his mask and looks away from Rogers:

“I let you do it, which makes me the true responsible for this,” Yet think of it, Rogers is _the one to blame_ : nobody asked him to help Zemo out of the debris in the first place, in that fourth of July last year; Rogers was the one who had the «brilliant» idea of rehabbing Zemo into goodness; Rogers convinced him to allow Falcon’s mother to interview him to her blog; Rogers had let Zemo fight alongside the Avengers… and yes, Rogers had hugged him in the park. _Rogers is the source of all of Zemo’s misfortune._

Yet to all that Zemo had had a choice… and he had always gone along with Rogers. The sake of Zemo’s ingenious plan and an unrequited, unwanted and unwelcomed liking on Captain America are now separated by a tenuous and fragile line that just keeps blurring… The German groans and hides his face on his hands.

And contrary to everything that’s logical and keeps the universe going, Rogers leans to the German and pulls him to a comforting embrace. A hug. The beginning of this Hydra hunt, and Rogers cringes at how poorly he’s handling the situation – he has never reassured soldiers with hugs; words and pats on the back had always been enough.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Zemo clutches to him. Baron Zemo, the superior being who’s starting to break and won’t say no to free affection: his father would certainly agree with Strucker, that Helmut Zemo is worthless… so what does Captain America sees in him all the time?

* * *

 

Arnim Zola escapes, but the team of scientists working with him and a few other important Hydra leaders aren’t so lucky. One of the guards in the facility even took the prize of misfortune: Rogers let Zemo out of his sight for no more than five minutes, and when he found the German again, his gloves were drenched in blood and the unfortunate guard was nearly dead at his feet – Zemo called it an interrogation to know where Zola had escaped to (which he didn’t find out, because the poor guard had no idea), but Captain America yelled at him it was torture and that Avengers did not torture people - Zemo still argued that he is no Avenger, but Rogers ignored him.

Still, the badly beaten guard, rushed to the small infirmary in the Avenjet, served as example of what Baron Zemo could do _with his bare hands_. And now the team of scientists and other high ranks don’t need the duct tape to remain silent.

Taking the chance that Baron Zemo is sulking in a corner because he was yelled at again, Rogers declares the hunt is over and that it’s time to go back home: the Avengers are exhausted and bruised and the Avenjet doesn’t have more room for any more prisoners.

When they return to the Tower, they find a lot of S.H.I.E.L.D. high-security transports on the helipad and a long queue of mercenaries and bounty hunters being escorted from the containment cells into the various vehicles. It has been some busy days, but S.H.I.E.L.D. had never been handed this many super-villains and scoundrels – Fury is pleased, and just this time ignores Baron Zemo leaving the Avenjet together with the Avengers.

* * *

 

“Guys, seriously, you can hug all you want… but in public, never again!” Tony complains and falls on a couch, exhausted. His armour is malfunctioning and partially destroyed and there are still robots removing debris from the living room and other floors where there were fights on. The other Avengers collapse on semi-burnt couches – the couch where the Hulk, Thor and Rogers sit collapses. “In other news, I had F.R.I.D.A.Y. hacking into one of Hydra’s communication channels and broadcast the live delivery of the Skull and friends to S.H.I.E.L.D. custody. I’m pretty sure this whole thing is over, now.”

Baron Zemo stands rigidly in the large space between the new kitchen isle and the living room going under reconstruction, repeating Iron Man’s words: it’s… _over_. The Red Skull, Baron Strucker, a whole team of scientists, a large group of Hydra high ranks and almost every mercenary in the world are locked away in the Vaults.

In just three days, Helmut Zemo pretty much destroyed _his father’s work_. And why? Because he didn’t bother to contact the Red Skull and let him know of his plan – all for the sake of his _own_ triumph, for the glory of his person and the name Zemo. But even if he had told, nobody would believe he had the capacity for it. Nobody ever had.

Baron Zemo is not feeling good, and he makes his way to the gym.

Later, when the Avengers disappear into their respective bedrooms, they hear the distinct sound of a punchbag being destroyed – and Clint suggests again they should get Zemo some sort of zen therapy. Rogers is mildly worried, yet he’s glad that Zemo is taking out his many frustrations regarding this situation on a punchbag instead of on one of the Avengers – this will calm down Zemo, certainly, and make him more approachable for the talk.

Yet Rogers worries seriously when, the next morning, he wakes up after a bad night of sleep and still listens to the death of a punchbag. It still goes on when he returns from breakfast, and that is when he decides this is the time to have that talk with Zemo to make sure there are no hard feelings about the Hydra hunt.

Captain America finds Baron Zemo in the boxing ring, viciously attacking a punchbag that is barely holding on. Five other punchbags lie in tatters around Zemo, which means the German spent the night in the boxing ring. Rogers freezes outside the ring, feeling the weight of guilt: he should have checked on Zemo earlier, he always checks on his team-mates.

The slaughtering of punchbags ends now, and Rogers enters the ring and rests a hand on Zemo’s shoulder:

“That’s enough, Helmut,” he commands, voice authoritative yet soft. Zemo lands a last blow on the punchbag and turns around to face Rogers, chest rising and falling way too fast and his whole body shaking slightly. Captain America assumes Zemo is exhausted – in fact, he hasn’t eaten anything else besides that protein bar and hasn’t slept.

Then Rogers notices that Zemo isn’t wearing his gloves, nor any kind of protection against the hard surface of the punchbag, and his knuckles are bruised and raw and the back of his hands and fingers are covered in blood. It all will be gone in a couple of hours, still Rogers’ heart sinks and he shakes his head:

“Helmut…” he mutters sadly, taking Zemo’s hands on his.

Zemo just grunts something, but doesn’t resist when Rogers pulls him gently to leave. Zemo is exhausted, both physically and mentally, and could drink an entire lake and eat an elephant. He follows Captain America along the silent bedrooms corridor, but hesitates a little when Rogers guides him into his bedroom. He eventually complies and allows Rogers to lead him to the couch opposite to the bed and sits down heavily:

“I’m going to take care of your hands, then you’ll have a shower while I make you something to eat,” It sounds like a command, and Zemo merely sighs and nods.

His knuckles will heal by themselves, but still Rogers thoroughly cleans the wounds with oxygenated water and applies some ointment that won’t resist a shower.

* * *

 

Even starving, Zemo eats with manners – no matter how badly he wants to shovel down the Tower of Pisa of pancakes that Rogers brought him. Sitting at his desk and eating, Zemo feels Rogers’ eyes on his back, studying him attentively – now that he had some time to come to his senses in the shower, Zemo does not want Captain America around him for the next hours. Maybe days, even. He needs to deal with the consequences of his actions, needs to think carefully of what to do next.

And almost more important than any of that… he needs to figure out where he stands with Rogers.

After finishing the pancakes, Zemo stands up with a sigh and looks at Rogers, sitting at the edge of his bed and looking attentively at him. He’s about to ask Rogers to leave him alone when Captain America taps the mattress next to him:

“We need to talk,” Rogers says quietly, and Zemo frowns:

“I would rather be on my own, now…” he replies, and clenches his jaw when Rogers simply smiles at him:

“You will, once we talk,” And Rogers is using that tone again, soft and friendly but carrying a veiled order.

It’s _Baron Zemo_ he’s talking to! German nobleman, genius, scientist, expert strategist/swordsman/marksman, master hypnotist and… extremely proud man who has just ruined his father’s work. All arrogance, petulance and overall defiance that Zemo had conjured up during his shower disappear, and he just wants to curl up and cry about his miserable life. With a defeated sigh, he sits on the bed next to Rogers.

They spend a moment in silence and Captain America feels again the already familiar urge of embracing Zemo. That same urge that caused all this trouble… Rogers runs a ran through his hair, feeling his bravery to have this talk decrease a little:

“I… I understand you might be upset about this Hydra thing…” he begins, watching as the German slowly bites his lower lip. “And… I understand you might be angry at me, because-“

“For the last time, this was not your fault…” Zemo grunts, meaning every word he says even though he wishes he could still blame Rogers and hate him for it. Right now, however, he just hates himself for having skipped diplomacy and jumping right into action.

A weight is lifted from Rogers’ shoulders, encouraging him to rest a friendly hand on Zemo’s shoulder:

“You did the right thing, Helmut,” he assures and squeezes the broad shoulder.

Zemo looks at him, slowly, with a strange glint in his violet eyes. And Rogers knows a storm is coming and immediately withdraws his hand:

“The _right_ thing!” Zemo repeats, rising his voice angrily at every word. “My father was a founding member of Hydra and I destroyed his work in just three days!! I betrayed the people I had to prove my worth to, when my father died and I stepped up to assume his position!!” At this point Zemo is yelling, his accent heavier and eyes so wide Rogers wouldn’t be surprised if they popped out. The German goes on and on about how he had to work harder than everyone just because he was too young, that he had to constantly prove he could do as well as Heinrich Zemo. Rogers isn’t surprised that Zemo talks like Hydra is still where he belongs, and is positive it’s only because Helmut Zemo has just done something that defies Heinrich Zemo in a much serious way than simply kicking him back into a time portal.

During his rant, Zemo stands up and starts pacing back and forth, stomping angrily with his bare feet and gesticulating furiously. This monologue isn’t the long talk Rogers had had in mind – he had honestly thought Zemo would be in need of reassurance, and not in need of venting about what a great scientist and leader he was in Hydra. Still Rogers listens patiently, watching the German walk in a small circle over the carpet.

Gradually, Zemo’s voice grows hoarse from all the shouting, until the German stops pacing and starts to cough. He casts an angry look at Captain America, sitting on his bed and looking at him, like Rogers is to blame for his temporary voice loss, then turns his back at Rogers and crosses his arms.

Rogers is about to suggest Zemo to drink some water when he notices the German suddenly tensing up. With a frown, Rogers stands up and walks up to Zemo, resting a hand on his shoulder:

“Helmut?” he calls softly and tries to peek at Zemo’s face. The German turns his face away, then his body when Rogers tries to stand in front of him. Zemo manages to successfully spin around away from Rogers a couple of times, until Rogers is done, grabs both of Zemo’s crossed arms and forcefully turns the German to face him.

He’s met by a pair of teary violet eyes, but even about to break Zemo clings to the last remains of his dignity and stares daggers at Rogers. Zemo wants to yell at Rogers to leave him alone, but he doesn’t exactly have a voice right now and even if he had, he wouldn’t trust it. On top of having a rather private moment broadcast across the country and ruining his father’s work, Baron Zemo is about to burst into tears in front of his sworn enemy. _Not good_.

Zemo’s teary yet still menacing eyes are the cue that Captain America must leave immediately.

Yet Zemo is a friend, and Captain America stands by his friends. Always. This is what Rogers tells himself as he feels again an overwhelming need to hug Zemo and comfort him and promise him everything will be fine. And since this is Zemo’s bedroom and not a public park, Rogers pulls Zemo into a tight embrace.

The last bits of dignity and pride are ripped off Zemo, and he defeatedly hides his face on the crook of Rogers’ neck, sobbing lowly, clutching to him and digging his fingers on Rogers’ back with bruising strength. Captain America isn’t bothered by it, rubbing soothing circles between Zemo’s shoulder blades but saying nothing, aware that Zemo has been bottling up for too long and simply needs to cry and not to be told he’ll be fine.

The ice is broken and has drifted apart, and they have fallen into the shallow lake beneath it.

They stand like that for what feels like hours, with Zemo sobbing and occasionally whimpering, always clutching to Rogers, and Rogers rubbing between his shoulder blades without break. At some point, Rogers feels that Zemo is starting to lean on him, and remembers the German hasn’t slept nor eaten properly for days – his outburst must have finally exhausted him, so Rogers carefully walks back to the bed, nearly dragging Zemo along, and intends to help Zemo to lie down.

But a super-soldier half-dragging another super-solider isn’t properly graceful and Baron Zemo, tall and broad and muscled, isn’t exactly light. Later, Rogers will blame the carpet and claim it slipped and made him lose his footing – truth is that Captain America loses his balance and falls on his side, bringing Zemo along and never breaking their embrace. Zemo, with his head still hidden on the crook of Rogers’ neck, seems oblivious to all of it; and Rogers doesn’t have the gut to untangle himself from the German.

So they lie together in each other’s arms, and Zemo slowly calms down until he stops crying and simply tries to even his breathing again. Rogers still rubs his back soothingly:

“Before the serum, when I was skinny and ill and weak…” Captain America says after a while, in a quiet voice and a sad smile. “… I dreamt of being healthier and stronger, so that I could help people. Well, my dream came true… but I still couldn’t help everyone I wished I could,” His smile dies and he sighs, then manages to free himself from Zemo’s grip just enough so that he can look at Zemo’s face.

The German looks completely spent. His face is washed in tears, still Rogers tries to reciprocate Zemo’s gesture from few days ago and thumbs at the wet skin in an attempt at drying it. He doesn't make a great job, but Zemo sighs and leans in to the touch:

“You know I don’t forgive myself, but as hypocrite as it sounds, I want _you_ to forgive _yourself_. You deserve so much better than spending your life wondering whether your father would approve of your actions or not…” Rogers pauses, realising just exactly what he’s doing.

He’s lying down with Zemo, on his bed, their legs tangled and still embracing each other, and he’s touching the German’s scarred face. So much for apologising for a hug in a park and so much for the unrequited and confused feelings Rogers wants to sort out…

Zemo, however, is quickly succumbing to fatigue, and Rogers realises they’ll either have this talk some other day or Zemo will sort it out by himself, being this last option more likely than the first – their proximity is making Rogers nervous, and Captain America isn’t sure about being alone with Zemo while he doesn’t figure out what are these urges to have the German in his arms.

Carefully, he moves away from Zemo, who grunts something unintelligible before closing his eyes and falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

 

When Zemo wakes up the next day, he’s alone and sprawled on the bed – a most unfitting position for a man of his category.  He’s also as hungry as he’s never been, and thirsty, and in the first few seconds of waking up he can’t figure out why he feels like this. His obliviousness is short, though, and Baron Zemo remembers in horror that he has successfully cleansed Hydra, destroyed a bunch of punchbags in one night and cried his eyes out on Captain America’s shoulder while clutching to him for dear life.

Zemo falls back on the bed, hiding his face on his hands: brilliant, Helmut Zemo truly is the peak of the noble lineage of Zemo… But now that he thinks of this… Rogers said something about this, didn’t he? Something about him wanting Zemo to forgive himself, about Zemo deserving better than constantly worrying of what his father would think. Easy for Rogers to speak, he’s a peasant who doesn’t have the weight of a glorious lineage coursing through his blood!! No no, Baron Zemo doesn’t need to forgive himself, he needs to find a way to fix this mess!!

And then he widens his eyes, having the most brilliant idea – he’ll follow through his supposed rehab, he’ll make the Avengers believe he has definitely turned into a super-hero… and then he’ll take over Hydra with the Avengers’ and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s aid, because who better to reform _Hydra_  than a supposedly good version of Baron Zemo? Yes, with the fake promise of turning Hydra into the next gang of super-heroes, Zemo won’t compromise his current brilliant plan of destroying the Avengers, nor will have to worry about having ruined his father’s work.

_He will even make it better._

How Zemo is going to juggle his fake promise and his true intentions in Hydra, it’s something for later. The German feels much better, now that he has reassured himself he hasn’t completely ruined Heinrich Zemo’s work.

Now, Zemo simply needs to figure out his sudden and unrequited fondness towards Captain America – while he doesn’t, perhaps it will be for the best if he doesn’t spend much time alone with Rogers. Zemo must confess he’s slightly embarrassed for having cried on Rogers’ shoulder and having somehow ended up lying on bed with him and falling asleep – no, his pride and dignity are the least of his concerns.

What bothers Zemo is what might happen next if he isn’t careful and doesn’t get a grip on himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opinions, anyone?


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to bad weather, my trip was cancelled and I had to stay at home. :') Which means an update sooner than what I expected. 
> 
> Again, thanks everyone who leaves comments and kudos. Really appreciated! <3

Life in the Avengers Tower goes back to normal – except that Rogers isn’t taking sword-fighting lessons and avoids as much as possible to be alone with Zemo, for which Zemo is both grateful and slightly indignant for.

The German, being a civilised man and superior being immune to feelings and emotions, copes with vicious gaming sessions with Thor and Hawkeye.

Because of the small problem with Hydra, the team-bonding weekend had to be delayed, but as the following weekend approaches, Rogers grows more and more enthusiastic – but doesn’t tell his friends what he’s up to until Friday night because he wants to make them a surprise. And so, after dinner, the Avengers, Baron Zemo, Captain Marvel, Ant-Man, Ms. Marvel and Vision are gathered in the conference room at the Avengers Tower. Black Widow is absent, enjoying a well-deserved week off somewhere in Europe; the Thunderbolts are also missing, having gone in mission.

Zemo notices his plan is working perfectly: Thor and Hawkeye are sitting respectively at his right and left, but the other Avengers are sitting next to Hawkeye and the other super-heroes are sitting across the table from them, casting him ugly looks. The super-heroes are being divided and don’t even realise it!

Though Zemo must confess he truly enjoys Thor’s and Clint’s company. Like… like they are friends.

Rogers is standing, observing his friends and determined to make this work:

“So, I called you all in because tomorrow we’re going for a team-building activity!” Rogers informs cheerfully, but the reactions he gets are everything but bright –  Zemo, Thor and Hawkeye nod enthusiastically, yet everyone else looks suspiciously at Zemo, who already knows what is coming and simply ignores them:

“Paintball?” Tony asks with a frown, because giving a paintball gun to people like Thor, Hawkeye and the Hulk doesn’t seem like a good idea. Much to his relief, Rogers shakes his head, smiling brightly:

“A horseback riding tour!” Captain America announces and Tony groans: how he wished it was paintball…

A mix of silent surprise and shock fills the conference room. Rogers’ smile falters, and upon noticing that Zemo feels indignant: what kind of friends are these??, why don’t they support Captain America??

“It is a good idea, Steven,” Zemo reassures him. Rogers wants to feel good for that, but he can’t: they had already talked about this, Rogers wants the approval of the rest of his friends:

“Helmut, we must race!!” Thor exclaims in his booming voice and slaps Zemo’s back, who’s pretty much immune to it by now:

“I… I don’t know how to ride…” Kamala says in a weak voice, looking worriedly at Captain America:

“Horses are creepy, I like ponies better…” the Hulk grunts, crossing his arms. “Ponies are cute.”

“Horses bite and kick and stink and move too fast!!” Iron Man complains:

“I don’t know how to ride, either!” Falcon informs, and Vision nods in agreement:

“Neither do I.”

“There was this scary horse at the petting zoo…” Clint mutters darkly, lost in unfortunate childhood memories:

“I’m afraid of horses, their heads are big!” Scott confesses, embarrassed:

“You can’t be serious, Army! You can’t take people who can’t ride and put them on horseback!” Captain Marvel complains angrily.

Rogers is instantly in commanding mode: this is no longer a team-building activity, it’s a _training_. Balance training. Balance and endurance training. He’s Captain America and he’s putting everyone on horseback and they’ll all have a great time and they’ll all be friends. He points an authoritative finger at Thor:

“No racing, Thor. We’re not going to compete; we’re just going to have fun _together_.”

* * *

 

The next morning, when Zemo goes to the kitchen to eat breakfast, he finds a skinny man with brown hair and glasses sitting at the kitchen isle with Hawkeye, both eating cereal:

“Who are you?” Zemo asks curiously and tilts his head. Sometimes this tower looks like a public space, with so many new people coming and going as it pleases them: he needs to address this situation with Captain America, this is one big safety hazard!

 _Not that Baron Zemo is concerned about the Avengers’ safety._ Merely his own.

“Doctor Bruce Banner, but you know me as the Hulk…” the skinny man replies, and Zemo’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. He goes to prepare porridge, casting a few glances over his shoulder to… the Hulk:

“I had no idea you could-“

“Go back to be a normal, puny human? Yeah, I can do it sometimes…” Banner sighs in resignation. “I still prefer ponies over horses, though…”

“Ponies are a menace to society,” Zemo informs and Clint bursts out laughing:

“What, Baron Zemo had a bad experience with a cute little pony??” he teases, and Zemo merely rolls his eyes while stirring the oats in the pan of boiling water:

“I know of equids, I have had horses all my life…” Then he chuckles lowly. “But Klaus _did have_ a nasty pony. Dreadful creature…”

“The potty mouth grandpa, right? You gotta tell that story!”

“With pleasure…” Zemo now laughs, that loud and carefree laughter of his, and turns around to face Clint and Banner. He then notices Rogers, who has arrived when Zemo was stating ponies are a danger to society and has remained petrified by the doorway. “Steven, do you want porridge too?”

Rogers doesn’t answer right away.

He had never heard Zemo laugh at someone who wasn’t him… or his relatives. Zemo had also never willingly shared anything with someone who wasn’t Rogers. So, why has he just told Clint and Banner that Klaus had had a terrible pony and why is he about to tell them about it?

Captain America feels a pang of jealousy, but forces himself to smile and shake his head:

“No thanks, I’ll eat some toasts.”

* * *

 

The super-heroes are not amused as they look around the barn Rogers brought them to – except for Thor and Zemo, looking forward to be finally on horseback. They all wear civilian clothes, as comfortable and sturdy as possible – not Zemo and Thor, in their suits, and even though Zemo is apparently unarmed, Rogers is pretty sure he’s carrying his knives with retractable blade in his belt pouches.

A stable girl walks to them, smiling widely and welcoming them, and Clint nudges Banner and wiggles his eyebrows. Next to them, Kamala rolls her eyes.

“Welcome, everyone!” the stable girl salutes, stopping next to the group. “Captain Rogers talked to me earlier and I already have the calmest horses waiting for you,” She then looks at Rogers, always smiling. “But Snowball is still waiting for you in his stall, and it seems two of your friends are experienced riders, right?”

“That is right!” Thor exclaims happily and rests a heavy hand on Zemo’s shoulder. The girl looks at them and nods:

“Very well, you can pick any horse you wish.”

“Do you have any German breed?” Zemo asks – not that these humble American breeds are bad, but… Some of the super-heroes scoff, but the girl frowns a little, thinking, then shakes her head:

“We just have a Knabstrupper stallion, but he’s a nasty piece of work…”

“Will do.”

The group splits: the girl leads Zemo to a separate stable building, where the stallion is kept alone, while Rogers leads the super-heroes to the main stable building, where some of the horses are already waiting, lined on the corridor in need of grooming and saddling.

Under Rogers’ guidance, the reluctant heroes comb their horses’ manes and tails, and brush their coats, and put the saddles on them – Rogers then has to put on all the bridles, because nobody wants to get close to the horses’ mouths. Thor is the only one who doesn’t need help: he has picked up a beautiful palomino stallion that keeps its eyes closed in satisfaction as Thor grooms it to perfection. The horses are all saddled with general purpose saddles, easier to sit on for beginners than a Western saddle, and after all the bridles are on the party heads outside. Thor can’t stop teasing Clint and Banner about how uncomfortable they look, and Rogers starts to realise this won’t be anywhere near relaxing…

Outside, in the back of the stables building, there’s a bathing area for the horses, a large fenced field with more horses and, between the bathing place and the beginning of a dirt road that disappears into the countryside, there’s a large outdoors arena.

Zemo and the stallion that is a nasty piece of work are already there, and Rogers’ jaw drops to the ground and he forgets how to breathe.

The stallion is beautiful, white and speckled with black, athletic, with its neck arched elegantly and cantering with controlled yet powerful strides. The horse is equipped with a double bridle, a jumping saddle and a breastplate and is foaming abundantly at the mouth, though it doesn’t look like it’s tired at all. The rider is an equally impressive and extremely elegant view, sitting straight yet relaxed on the saddle, moving like he is one with the horse and looking ahead, oblivious that he’s being watched. Zemo presses his heels on the horse’s sides and relieves some pressure from the reins, and the horse changes from cantering to galloping, but still with its neck arched. To make the horse more comfortable, Zemo stands on the stirrups.

And Rogers wishes he could simply jump to the saddle of his own horse, ride up to Zemo and race him towards the horizon. Fast and free and going wherever their horses take them to. Leaving all worries behind and flying together on borrowed wings. Just the two of them.

Deep in his mind, Rogers asks himself if Zemo would handle a lover with the same expertise and confidence he handles that stallion.

After letting the horse run for a bit, Zemo sits back on the saddle and pulls the reins softly yet firmly, and the horse stops immediately and is still for a few seconds. When Zemo is sure the horse won’t move without command, he gives it some friendly pats on the neck and presses his heels on its sides again, and the horse starts to walk with large strides:

“Is your horse with rabies…?” Kamala asks when Zemo approaches the closed door of the arena. Before anyone can volunteer to open the door for him, Baron Zemo manoeuvres the stallion and he himself opens the door, exits with the horse and closes the door again without aid or dismounting. Rogers is still admiring him, unaware that his mouth is still wide open in awe:

“No, child. He is merely relaxed,” Zemo explains patiently, stopping his horse in front of the group of super-heroes. He then notices Rogers and raises his eyebrows. “Steven?”

Rogers closes his mouth firmly, nearly biting his tongue in the process. He hopes nobody saw him staring like that at Zemo, but Tony did and looks between the two suspiciously.

“Ok, on horseback!” Rogers commands and busies himself with helping his friends to climb to the saddles. Thor approaches his horse to Zemo’s, that immediately pricks up its ears. Its rider, however, is holding the reins firmly and won’t allow any shenanigan:

“You are a formidable rider!” Thor compliments, and Zemo bows his head in appreciation. “We must race, it would be such fun!”

“No one’s racing today, Thor…” Rogers reminds the Asgardian, helping Tony to climb to his horse.

Zemo watches in amusement how the super-heroes, so proud and sure of themselves, always with their backs straight, squared shoulders and irradiating confidence… are now slightly hunched over their horses’ necks, clutching to both reins and manes for dear life, with their feet too far into the stirrups, looking worriedly at the ground so distant from them. The Hulk – Bruce Banner, actually – is especially funny given how visibly terrified he is. The German wants to laugh and make fun of them.

Yet, he doesn’t say a word. He has already ruined one of Rogers’ «team-building» activities, and even though he’s upset that he hasn’t had opportunity to be only with Rogers, he won’t hurt him again by ruining this. Though Zemo is also grateful for not having been alone with Captain America lately, because he’s still trying to clear again the line between «for the sake of brilliant plan» and «unrequited liking on enemy» - and the sight of Rogers climbing to the saddle and sitting properly, showing that he knows what he’s doing, goes immediately to the side of the unwanted liking. Captain America on horseback is a beautiful sight, and Zemo happens to have a magnificent horse that would be a perfect steed for Rogers.

Zemo clears his throat and looks away from Rogers to Thor – he can’t distract himself: the horse he’s riding is indeed a piece of work… but he also wants to enjoy this. He hasn’t ride on horseback for years and he has missed it dearly.

Thor is a fine rider as well, but being a prince that is expectable. To keep his mind off how wonderful Rogers looks on horseback and attempting to ignore the twinge of envy towards Iron Man, riding next to Rogers, Zemo sides his horse with Thor’s as the merry group, led by Captain America and a painfully terrified Iron Man, make their way to the dirt road.

Being the more experienced riders and being free from leading the group, Zemo and Thor ride at a certain distance, talking between them about the horses they own at home and the various stunts they can perform on a saddle. Sometimes they allow their horses to trot slowly, sometimes Zemo’s horse neighs threateningly at Thor’s horse and tries to bite it, sometimes they stay behind a little just to canter to catch up with everyone again.

The day is warm, but not excessively hot to be outside in the sun. The countryside is vast and beautiful, with endless green fields at their right and a forest of pines stretching almost as endlessly at their left. In front of them, far away, mountains, and above them the clear sky and the occasional bird that flies by. Everything is silent except for the sound of many hooves on dirt and Zemo’s and Thor’s chatting.

In fact… only Baron Zemo and Thor are having fun, and socializing, and relaxing. The point is for the _whole_ team to enjoy themselves…! Rogers glances over his shoulder, to see Zemo and Thor chuckling, and his shoulders sag miserably. Tony, right next to Rogers, sees it all by the corner of his eye, and even though he’s terrified of being on horseback, he supposes he won’t fall off if he talks. _Hopefully_ :

“So, where are you taking us?” he asks casually, but his voice sounds small, like he’s afraid the sound of it will spook his horse. Rogers looks at him and brightens a bit:

“To the lake! It’s a beautiful place!”

“Is it far?”

“An hour or so…” Then he smiles playfully. “However, if we _gallop_ …”

“Nonononono…” Iron Man grunts, shaking his head for emphasis. But then he widens his eyes, hopeful. “Look! The lake!”

“It’s a stream…” Captain America corrects fondly, and Tony sighs in defeat.

The dirt road they’re following disappears into the stream, indicating a ford, and appears again at the other side of the stream. The clear water reflects the sun and runs soothingly over pebbles and sediment, and Rogers lets the reins lose when his horse steps into the water, allowing it to drink if it wants. Tony obviously doesn’t let go of the reins, nor any of the other super-heroes, but they all cross the stream with no incidents. Last come Thor and Zemo, and Thor’s horse enters the stream excitedly.

Zemo’s horse, however, neighs and rears before stepping into the water, and would have turned around fleeing if only its rider had allowed it. Rogers is immediately worried about Zemo, remembering the German telling him about falling off his young horse and getting injured, needing surgery and having his mobility reduced:

“Is everything okay?” he asks, watching as the horse rears a second time. Zemo, however, stands impossibly firm and straight, like he’s not bothered at all, and if this wasn’t such a dangerous situation Rogers would be blown away by the sight of Zemo on the rearing stallion:

“Move aside,” Zemo commands at the super-heroes, turns the horse away from the stream and sets it to canter:

“He’s running away…” Captain Marvel states, narrowing her eyes. None of the super-heroes move their horses from the dirt road because they don’t know how to do it and Rogers doesn’t instruct them to, observing Zemo like he’s enchanted – only Thor, who knows what Zemo is about to do, trots to the safety of the high grass off the road.

Zemo turns the horse back towards the stream and sets it to gallop. Rogers, watching attentively, can only think of a knight charging into battle, and he’s so mesmerized by the sight he still doesn’t move nor tells the others to move. Zemo’s horse, upon reaching the stream again, hesitates and wants to rear, but the German keeps pressing his heels against its sides, and the horse stumbles a little and raises its head up high, then prances across the stream.

Because the super-heroes are still on the road, Zemo directs the horse to the high grass, and the moment the stallion’s hooves touch dry land it kicks viciously and would have darted off if only he had a less experimented rider. The German stops the horse and turns his masked head to look at the super-heroes, slightly annoyed:

“I am flattered by the trust you put on me and my skills,” he comments dryly, and only then Rogers realises the catastrophe that could have happened: if Zemo hadn’t managed to redirect the horse or control it, it could have spooked the other horses:

“Thor, you coward!!” Banner complains, also catching up on what could have happened. Thor frowns:

“You were told to move aside, but you did not! It is not my fault!”

Captain America puts an end to it before things get out of hand; he orders everyone to proceed. The super-heroes’ horses follow Snowball obediently, except for Thor’s and Zemo’s stallions, that are set in a calm trot through the grass by the roadside.

Zemo looks at the others, feeling a mixture of superiority, scorn and pity. He points with his head to Hawkeye, and with a chuckle he and Thor approach their horses to Hawkeye’s, the last in the group:

“You will fall if you keep like that,” Zemo warns, and Hawkeye gives him a deadpan look. “Straighten your back and square your shoulders, that is how you keep balance. Push your heels down and keep the stirrups under your toes, it will give you more stability.”

“What did your parents feed you as a kid, broom handles?” he grunts, trying to copy Zemo’s stance:

“It is the result of rigorous training, my friend!” Thor exclaims and nods in approval. Hawkeye grimaces:

“Nobility eats broom handles for breakfast: confirmed…”

Bickering seems to be a good way to distract Hawkeye from his fear of horses. Rogers twists a bit on the saddle, to look at the rear-guard of the group; Zemo, Thor and now Clint sure are enjoying the day…

Zemo then notices Kamala: she’s actually sitting straight, but she’s holding her hands too high and her feet are also too deep into the stirrups. Excusing himself from Thor and Hawkeye, Zemo approaches his horse to Kamala’s:

“With your hands like that, you have no contact on the horse’s mouth,” he informs, and Kamala looks at him, slightly confused. Hawkeye’s head peeks over Zemo’s shoulder:

“He’s German, you need to ask him to speak in English…” the archer explains with a grin. Zemo rolls his eyes:

“You are not controlling the horse,” he simplifies to Kamala, who grows paler in horror. “You just need to lower your hands to your waist, bend the elbow a little-“

“Tell me again, who left you in charge?” Captain Marvel asks from behind Kamala, indignant. “We’ve all got it you’re a great rider, now can you just shut up?”

“Oh, come on! He’s being helpful!” Hawkeye snaps: 

“But if Captain Rogers deemed us ready to ride and go, then I do not understand why the Baron is attempting to give tips,” Vision says, truly confused because this doesn’t make sense: if Rogers thought they needed to know anything before going, then he would have taught them a few things first… right?

Zemo clenches his jaw:

“You are poor and ungrateful!”

“Helmut, please stop…” Rogers commands tiredly from the front, twisting on the saddle again: the last thing Rogers needs is an argument breaking among the group.

Zemo stops his horse abruptly, narrowing his eyes in disbelief. Has Captain America gone dumb overnight? Can’t he see his friends are doomed to fall off if no one gives them basic orientations? Zemo tries to remember something he might have done to offend Rogers and deserve that treatment, especially because they haven’t even have spent some time together by themselves.

Maybe now, that Rogers has seen Zemo cry, he thinks the German is frail and good for nothing, and therefore unworthy of his company. That is why they haven’t trained together, and why Rogers avoids staying alone with him, and why Rogers isn’t supporting him when he’s clearly trying to make something good for a bunch of people that means nothing to him.

Zemo completely forgets that he’s also grateful for not spending time alone with Rogers, because of his serious case of liking Captain America. This is an offense to his noble person, and Baron Zemo shall not stand this:

“You are holding the reins like it were the handlebar of a bike and Stark is not even holding the reins at all,” Zemo states with disdain and moves his horse again towards Thor’s and Hawkeye’s.

Thor shares Zemo’s indignancy for the unfair treatment he’s getting for trying to help and the two trot away side by side, proudly outpacing the group and Rogers, leading it:

“Guys, guys!!” Clint calls. “How the heck do you do that??!” He groans, frustrated, because everything Thor and Zemo do to command the horses is imperceptible. It’s like they think «trot» and the horses magically read their minds and trot. Hawkeye gives it a shot… but sadly for him, it doesn’t work like that.

Thor, however, returns, grabs the reins of Hawkeye’s horse and leads it away from the other horses, to where Zemo is waiting for them, ahead of the group. Hawkeye laughs nervously as his horse starts to trot slowly after Thor’s and holds on the horse’s mane, but he forces himself to keep his back straight and must admit this is… fun! He’s going faster and not falling off!

“Bye, losers!” he mutters as his horse outpaces everyone.

Banner and Rogers watch, feeling abandoned.

And Rogers is already regretting having dragged everyone into this horseback riding tour. If it were only him and Zemo, they would be galloping now, and they would reach the lake earlier and have time to lunch by the waterside while letting the horses rest, and talk a little… maybe hug… or simply stay close to each other… and Zemo would tell him about his horses in Germany, and laugh… and it would be just the two of them.

But no: Rogers is watching as Zemo, Thor and an increasingly confident Hawkeye literally horse around, laughing and bantering and bickering and- _is Zemo going to take a selfie with Thor and Hawkeye??????????????_

A bird suddenly takes flight from a bush by the roadside, spooking Vision’s horse. The horse turns around abruptly and flees, and its inexperienced rider is easily thrown off the saddle. The scared horse provokes a disastrous chain reaction:

“The calmest horses, uh??!!” Captain Marvel cries out, holding on the neck of her horse as it walks backwards quickly, but eventually stops. Kamala screams, which helps in nothing, but she manages to stand on the saddle; Ant-Man dramatically throws himself to the ground, landing on his stomach with a pained huff; Banner holds to the mane of his horse as it darts away after Vision’s horse, and he falls off to the high grass on the roadside; Falcon calls for his mother, but miraculously controls his horse and remains on the saddle; Iron Man’s horse was just startled, but somehow Tony ends up sitting on its neck and sliding off to the ground. Only Rogers is able to control his horse, and looks speechless and worried at his friends. Glancing over his shoulder, he can see Hawkeye, Thor and Zemo waiting patiently on horseback, some meters ahead, like nothing happened.

* * *

 

“I hate horses,” Iron Man grunts as he sits heavily on the couch, cradling two pizza boxes. Bruce Banner – now the Hulk again – nods in agreement as he sits next to Tony:

“It wasn’t that bad!” Hawkeye exclaims cheerfully, them grimaces. “My butt and legs hurt, though…”

“ _Everything_ hurts…” Ant-Man complains and falls on a free spot on the couch.

The others slowly take their seats, grunting about horses and disasters. Rogers, with a clenched jaw and a slight frown, puts a pile of pizza boxes on the coffee table:

“Where are Zemo and Thor?” Falcon asks, looking around:

“Thor decided they would go to Asgard for the rest of the day, something about horses and racing…” Rogers replies dryly; so much for a team-bonding activity:

“I thought we were supposed to stay together…?” Captain Marvel points, earning a shrug from Rogers.

This is not the day Captain America had envisioned… He had meant for all of them to have fun together, as equals, regardless of one’s experience and knowledge of horse riding. Fine, maybe he had been careless, maybe he should have made sure everyone knew at least the basics to stay on the saddle… Rogers feels extremely embarrassed for this rookie mistake: this is not like him, he’s always so careful with his troops, his team, his friends… There could have been some serious injuries today and it would be Rogers’ fault.

And now Thor and Zemo are somewhere in Asgard having fun and Rogers was left to look after the bunch of sore and grumpy super-heroes… Rogers can’t help another pang of jealousy: he had really expected to have the chance to ride side by side with Zemo, talk a bit to him… The previous week - Zemo’s apology, the heartfelt hug that followed and the other at the park, the ice cream with waffles - it all feels so distant, like Rogers was stuck in ice again and has just been brought into a time that isn’t his. Again.

The day goes by with everyone in a bad mood. Kamala and Vision leave shortly after lunch, but Captain Marvel stays and has the brilliant idea of confronting Rogers about The Hug. Yet Rogers doesn’t listen what Carol tells him about hugging super-villains and trusting people who shouldn’t be trusted and wolves in sheep's clothing; all Rogers can do is remember how it felt good, so good that he’s scared to be alone with Zemo and for that the German has found replacements for Rogers’ company in Thor and Hawkeye. The thought hurts. Is Rogers so meaningless that Zemo doesn’t even come to ask him if everything is alright?

But Rogers had wanted this, right? That the Avengers accepted and befriended Zemo… Thor and Hawkeye have done it, and Rogers should be happy about it. He should be happy about finding the three of them playing video-games, or arm-wrestling, or playing Mikado and other games that require a delicacy Thor clearly lacks. He should have been happy about Zemo sharing something personal with Hawkeye, should have been happy to see the gang ride together and having fun.

He's not. He simply feels cast aside and useless, like Zemo doesn’t need him anymore, now that Rogers has reassured him he did the right thing about Hydra.

Captain Marvel eventually notices Rogers isn’t paying attention and leaves, furious, stating that Baron Zemo is playing the Avengers like a fiddle and they will all regret it later. The Hulk leaves for a walk shortly after, in need of relaxing from the stressful horseback riding tour; Falcon, Hawkeye and Ant-Man leave to their respective quarters to wash and lay down; only Iron Man and Captain America remain in the living room, and Tony tries to understand why his friend is so upset:

“Did Zemo do something again?” he asks, straight to the point, and it’s enough to divert Rogers’ attention from the TV to him:

“No, why do you think so?”

“You look at him a lot,” Tony narrows his eyes suspiciously. “I’m gonna develop a software that will tell me whether you’re hypnotised or not…”

Rogers blushes and looks back at the TV. He wishes the super-solider serum could stop him from blushing…:

“I’m just making sure he’s fitting in…”

“Well, seems Thor and Barton are his minions, now!”

Rogers doesn’t reply right away and he sighs:

“Look, Tony… Today was simply not what I was expecting… Maybe paintball, next time.”

“How about a good old fashioned bootcamp…? You know, the usual you make us humble Avengers go through every month...?”

Rogers grimaces: that sure is safer than trying to drag everyone into something he later realises would be nice to do with Zemo, just the two of them…

Understanding Rogers would rather be alone with his thoughts, Tony leaves to wash and lay down a little before going to the workshop. And so Rogers is left alone, watching TV without even knowing what he’s watching.

Sometime later, a glow behind Rogers’ couch announces the opening of a portal, and Zemo and Thor materialize in the Avengers Tower, laughing loudly and so much they are bent over, leaning against each other for support.

Rogers turns on the couch to watch in shock as Thor eventually falls to his knees in an unstoppable fit of laughter, and how Zemo hunches over him but ends up losing balance and falling on his butt, which only provokes more laughter, and the next moment they are sprawled on the floor and rolling and flailing their limbs. It’s a hilarious scene and would have made everyone watching laugh – but Rogers just feels… _hurt_ , and he can’t just stay there and watch Zemo and Thor rolling on the floor and laughing nonstop. So, he jumps to his feet and hurriedly leaves the living room.

Despite the fit of laughter, Zemo notices Rogers leaving quickly, and it slowly ceases his laughter.

* * *

 

Rogers can’t sleep. Tossing and turning in the bed, he tries to make the visualizations Zemo induced him in the hypnotherapy session, but right now he doesn’t have the willpower for it.

Dawn arrives painfully slowly, and after a quick breakfast, an intense workout and a shower, Rogers takes his pile of dirty clothes and makes his way to the laundry room.

He nearly stumbles on his own feet and falls ungraciously when he sees Zemo sitting on one of the counters, reading a book. Captain America freezes the moment the German turns his head sharply at him: he can’t just turn around and leave, that… that would be simply stupid! He needs to stay, no matter how much he doesn’t trust himself to keep his hands off Zemo, and no matter how hurt he is about being abandoned. With a sigh, Rogers walks in, leaves his laundry on the counter and leans against it with crossed arms, looking at the washer.

Next to him, Zemo closes his book:

“I am surprised you have graced me with your company…” he comments sarcastically, delighted about finally finding himself with only Rogers and terrified about what might happen:

“It’s not me who has been ignoring you…” Rogers snaps bitterly, and if he keeps his arms crossed, he won’t hug Zemo.

The German narrows his eyes, confused, then pulls off the black balaclava covering his face. Rogers has missed that scarred face and those intense violet eyes more than he should:

“Is that so? Because we have not talked much, nor trained, since last week,” The German purses his lips, coming to a sudden realisation. “Now that you have the highest ranks of Hydra imprisoned, I must be dispensable… Or maybe you think me unworthy of your company because I…” The word «cried» is a barely understandable growl and the German looks down at his boots, ashamed.

Rogers’ shoulders sag and he sighs sadly. Deep down, he was hoping Zemo wouldn’t go that way, because it’s not true and automatically forces Rogers to come clean if he wants to avoid problems in the future – and he does:

“It’s not that, Helmut…” he mumbles, looking shyly at the German, who sighs impatiently:

“Care to explain, then?”

But Rogers also has his moments of stubbornness, and he’ll fight for this last bit of dignity:

“Well, you didn’t try to come up to me…” he accuses, letting all the pain it has caused him seep to his words. That makes Baron Zemo shift his weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably:

“You did not, either…” he replies and cringes at how childish he sounds, but by no means Zemo is going to tell _Captain America_ he might not be able to keep his perfect Germanic hands to himself… and that he wouldn’t mind that much if Rogers had the same issue. Which Captain America certainly does not have, because he has successfully captured the highest ranks of Hydra and has seen Zemo cry – now he must see the German as some piece of weak and worthless human garbage. Zemo should have never let Rogers hug him after he apologised, on the first place. He doomed himself and now he craves Rogers’ attention and contact and doesn’t know very well how to cope with the fact that he has gone an entire week with none of it – _even though Baron Zemo is not needy_.

Little does Zemo knows Rogers has the exact same problem – crying included, and now that Rogers looks back, the German must have thought him the feeblest of creatures if he couldn’t even handle an apology without bursting into tears.

The uncomfortable silence between them is broken as the washer beeps, signalling it has finished. Zemo clears his throat and strides to it, to change his laundry to the drier, and when the German returns to lean on the counter Rogers walks to the washer to shove his laundry into it. After that, he too goes back to leaning on the counter, and again silence drags between them.

Captain America casts a brief glance at the sulking super-villain next to him and lets out a sigh. Rogers has always been taught to express his feelings, to not bottle up and keep everything to himself. His parents were encouraging when it came to that, and art has always been very helpful. Yet Zemo was certainly taught the other way around, and maybe he has been avoiding Rogers because he showed his emotions to him and now feels guilty and ashamed about it. It’s a shot in the dark, but Rogers considers it’s worth trying: bidding farewell to his dignity for the sake of Zemo’s self-esteem, Captain America clears his throat to explain himself:

“Look, Helmut… I like you a lot, ok?” he blurts out his confusing feelings, still blaming his artistic vein for the inappropriate way he perceives the German. “I just… I’m just afraid I’ll keep… hugging you… when I shouldn’t… That’s why I’ve been avoiding you…”

Zemo slowly turns his face at him, violet eyes wide in… shock?, wonder?... disgust…? Rogers clears his throat again and is about to clarify that he likes Zemo _as a friend_ – no matter how beautiful and charming and maybe a little bit adorable. The German, however, looks away hurriedly, suddenly finding the ceiling extremely interesting:

“Same,” he grunts, and Rogers almost doesn’t understand what he says. _Almost_.

Besides… Baron Zemo is not that good at hiding what goes in his soul when he’s not wearing a mask…

Zemo did not just say out loud he likes Rogers a lot just because _he effectively does_ and, since Rogers was brave enough to leave it in the open, then Zemo needs to do it too for a matter of fairness. _It is merely for the sake of his brilliant plan to destroy the Avengers… and Rogers._ Zemo must keep Rogers on his good side.

The German risks glancing at Rogers… only to find him grinning cheerfully, in that way of his when he smiles with lips and eyes. Zemo feels warm, and there’s a funny feeling in his stomach, and his own lips curve up with no command given:

“Stop grinning like that, fool…” he grunts, but he doesn’t mean it. He has missed this smile only Rogers can give him, and doesn’t even blink or flinch when Rogers approaches him and wraps his arms around him. He feels comfortable in Rogers’ arms, and he too embraces Rogers around the shoulders.

They feel comfortable, like they belong there in each other’s arms, and now they know it’s fine to do that as long as they are indoors and just by themselves. They are warm and gradually melt into the tight embrace as their legs go slightly weak and a thousand butterflies flutter in their stomachs.

There is no more ice.

“I don’t think less of you, Helmut,” Rogers states quietly after a while, resting his chin on Zemo’s shoulder. The German tenses a little. “I’m here for you, ok?”

“Same,” Zemo grunts; he doesn’t have the gut to tell Rogers he also doesn’t think less of him, and that while Rogers’ so-called friends seem to be keen on under-appreciating him, Zemo is more than pleased to have Rogers all for himself. Zemo doesn’t want to think about revenge, or his father, or Hydra. He simply burrows his head on the crook of Rogers’ neck and sighs in contentment.

Baron Zemo, the superior being who doesn’t need affection, has just found a well of it and seems he has been given permission to enjoy it whenever it pleases him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, a Knabstrupper is actually a Danish breed, but they're pretty popular in Germany. If you're curious, this how Zemo's nasty stallion looks like: http://www.globetrotting.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/Knabstrupper.jpg 
> 
> Remember, kids: feedback is always appreciated and treasured! :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you people for you support!! :'D
> 
> Now, ladies and gentlemen, super-heroes and super-villains, please buckle up: the Feels are about to start!
> 
> (also the multi-notes continue and I would like it to stop...)

Baron Zemo, stuck under a brick wall that collapsed on him, can only wonder what has he done to deserve this kind of thing. Next to him lie the mortal remains of an evil robot that, in the process of fighting and burying Zemo alive under the bricks, doomed itself as well.

It’s not like Baron Zemo is weak and can’t push away all these bricks: he simply had the misfortune of getting stuck in a very awkward position, with his torso twisted to one side and his legs to the other, and his left shoulder is _definitely_ out of place – so, he better be still to avoid further injury.

All that is left for him to do is sigh in resignation and listen to the combat outside his temporary brick cocoon, until finally he hears Rogers in his earpiece:

“Helmut, where are you?”

“Remember that dead end alley you told me not to get into alone, while I was chasing a robot?” Zemo sighs, defeated. “Well… it is not a dead end anymore…”

“I didn’t know you’re an architect!” Rogers replies with a chuckle, but Zemo knows he’s getting a lecture from Captain America about this.

Nobody lectures Baron Zemo. Nobody… unless it’s another Baron Zemo: only Zemos have the authority to reprimand each other, but Helmut Zemo is simply too brilliant and ingenious to ever do anything wrong that deserves a lecture. Except for this time, and Zemo admits that he should have listened to Rogers instead of coming after the stupid robot.

Of course, this is simply discomfort and pain speaking… by no means Baron Zemo is growing modest and accepting he’s not always right. Because he is always right.

It doesn’t take long for the rubble trapping Zemo to start to be removed, and little later the German can untwist his body and use his good arm to drag himself out:

“You really have a thing for getting stuck and needing help…” Rogers comments fondly, watching as Zemo slowly emerges from his temporary prison. Rogers is smiling, relieved, but his smile dies and he frowns in worry as he notices Zemo is only using one arm and that his other arm is at a rather strange angle. His suspicions are confirmed as the German scrambles to his feet and his left arm simply hangs uselessly next to his torso. “Oh, Helmut…”

Zemo looks offendedly at his injured arm while Rogers crosses his arms, the practical solution to stop himself from hugging Zemo and comfort him – the mutual and unspoken agreement is that they can hug as long as it’s in the tower with nobody watching. So, they simply leave the alley walking side by side, and even though Zemo’s injury isn’t life-threatening, Rogers can’t help but glance at him constantly just to make sure he’s alright.

They meet the other Avengers in the main avenue where the robots landed to spread chaos. The Hulk is piling the destroyed robots on the sidewalk and there are already civilians approaching the scene, both on foot and driving.

A group of reporters trots ahead of the crowd, wielding audio recorders, microphones and cameras. Iron Man and Captain America exchange a look: this is the Avengers’ (and Zemo’s) first public appearance after The Hug, and they were already predicting there would be a bunch of reporters wanting to see them.

Zemo himself isn’t surprised when he’s bombarded with flashes from the cameras and with questions about his intentions in the world of super-heroes. But he simply joins the Avengers, gathered behind Rogers and Iron Man – as the leaders of the team, it’s their job to put up with the reporters. Clint and Thor look inquiringly at Zemo’s dislocated shoulder, but the thumb-up the German gives them is enough to assure them everything is fine.

Since bringing in Zemo was Rogers’ idea, he does all the talking – mostly reassuring people that Zemo is doing great in his rehab into goodness. Behind Rogers, Zemo beams with all the compliments he’s getting from Captain America, but he has had enough of being on the news and so remains as camouflaged as possible among the super-heroes.

“How can you be so sure Baron Zemo will reform?” a reporter asks, frowning:

“Baron Zemo is not the first super-villain undergoing rehabilitation,” Captain America replies.

A reporter whose elaborate make-up and girly clothes scream gossip magazine suddenly materializes in front of Rogers, chewing gum enthusiastically:

“Captain America, please tell us about that hug! It didn’t seem like just two people who are merely team-mates and who had been enemies until not so long ago!” she demands, practically shoving her audio recorder on Rogers’ face. “Is Baron Zemo really that huggable?”

Zemo’s masked head peaks from between Rogers’ and Tony’s shoulders, and he narrows his eyes menacingly at the reporter: _Baron Zemo is not huggable…!!!_ It’s Captain America who’s incredibly grabby!

“Baron Zemo isn’t a team-mate: he’s a trainee, “ Rogers states calmly, and Zemo does a good job at remaining impassive and not showing his indignance:

“But that hug-“ the reporter tries again, arching an eyebrow:

“Meaningless and irrelevant to Avengers’ business,” Rogers replies coolly. Another reporter decides to intervene:

“But you must confess it had all the looks of a date!”

“A date is a day, month and year specified by numbers, and neither Baron Zemo or me are numbers,” And with that Captain America is done with the press and turns his back at the crowd of reporters.

Zemo strides into the jet ahead of everyone, feeling ridiculous with his useless arm dangling next to him in continuous pain. The Avengers all laugh of Rogers’ last statement, and Zemo would also praise the brilliance of it if only his good mood wasn’t already ruined – not because of his arm, but because of Rogers’ words.

A little bit of Zemo tells him he’s making a storm in a teacup, that Rogers was simply being professional and that, if he were in Rogers’ skin, he would have done the exact same thing. But the most of Zemo, the part of him that was constantly torn down by his father, is screaming in indignancy for being _meaningless_ : if he’s meaningless, then why is Captain America always so caring about him?, what is Rogers planning next, now that he has the highest ranks of Hydra behind bars?, what game is this?

“But now that I think of it…” Black Widow starts conversationally as she takes her seat. “… it kinda looked like a date…”

“Seriously? You, of all people?” Rogers snaps, more aggressively than intended. Thor raises his hands in a placating gesture:

“There is no shame in showing appreciation for our friends!”

“And you’re not huggable,” Clint assures Zemo from his seat. “Especially with your arm like that…”

“He’s not huggable, period,” Tony grunts. Falcon and the Hulk simply shrug.

* * *

 

At the small hospital in the Avengers Tower, Rogers runs a scan on Zemo and concludes the dislocated joint is nothing he can’t fix himself. Zemo is silent the whole time, complaining only when Rogers brings an ice bag from the small freezer to put on his shoulder after it was pushed back into place:

“That is unnecessary, Steven…” the German grunts, sitting on a stool. Still, Rogers gently presses the ice bag on Zemo’s shoulder and holds it in place:

“Just five minutes won’t kill you…” he replies softly.

Zemo simply sighs in annoyance, but he realises it’s an empty feeling. He enjoys this attention, wants it. Just like the goddamned hugs. For a moment, Baron Zemo – the superior being who doesn’t need emotions and feelings and intends to destroy the Avengers and Captain America – wonders if Rogers is this caring with every unfortunate villain who goes through rehab. And if he calls everybody a friend and hugs them whenever.

Perhaps, Zemo is simply overthinking and over-reacting. Clint might be a little right when he calls him _Baron Drama_ … Besides, it’s not like it bothers Zemo. _It cannot bother him_ ; Captain America is his enemy and it’s none of Zemo’s business who he takes under his wing and befriends and whatnot. This is simply the little child in Zemo speaking, the child who had his self-esteem and confidence crushed by Heinrich Zemo – but Helmut Zemo is a fully-grown man now, and he’s well past his childhood misfortunes, and he’s nor clingy or needy or insecure.

 _Baron Zemo can handle his feelings like a proper, functional human being_ :

“«Trainee» is somewhat diminishing, considering my social position…” Zemo grumbles, and he was totally smooth and discreet and even though he feels Rogers’ blue eyes pierce through him and seeing his very core, he’s positive he made a very good job at not giving out how annoyed he is and how much he wants to know what Rogers meant by Zemo being simply a trainee and The Hug being meaningless… and maybe the other rehabbing villains as well…

Rogers doesn’t reply right away. He simply stares at Zemo, having the feeling he’s finally seeing right through the German: Baron Zemo is… _Baron Zemo_ \- proud, arrogant, full of himself, overconfident and a somewhat tyrannical natural leader. Or is he, because for all that happened these last months in the Avengers Tower, Rogers can tell Zemo is a slightly insecure man trying to prove himself to the world while spending all his energy simply in keeping himself together. A good man shielding himself from the world with evil deeds. Hawkeye sometimes calls Zemo a diva and a drama queen, and Rogers is happy to see that the German is learning to not be offended by Clint’s cockiness – because the archer is simply like that; but Rogers, though sometimes admitting Zemo makes a scandal over meaningless things, knows that most times Zemo is simply feeling attacked and protecting himself.

Like now.

Zemo has let Captain America unbelievably close, so it must have hurt him to hear Rogers say he’s not a friend, not a team-mate, and that The Hug was meaningless. Even though Rogers was simply being professional and giving his best to keep them out of more mediatic trouble. Zemo must know this because he’s intelligent, and maybe that’s why he’s being cool about it.

Rogers had been extremely happy when Zemo had told him the liking feeling was reciprocal, had felt delighted for being authorized to come up to the German and wrap his arms around him, feel him, have someone to hold him as well. Rogers had felt special, because Zemo isn’t like that with Thor and Hawkeye. But now that the German is upset about Rogers apparently lessening their friendship, Captain America feels a gush of hope that is both thrilling and dreadful: since Zemo is upset, then he’s clearly interested in Rogers, and maybe Captain America can allow himself to not just hug Zemo, but stir his hair as well, and feel his arms, and maybe his heart… be more affectionate – go against everything he was taught, ignore everything that’s socially acceptable, quit blaming his artistic vein and acknowledge he’s starting to fall for Zemo, try his luck with a man who can understand him like nobody else can; _or_ Rogers is getting everything wrong because he’s just not good at flirting and knows nothing of relationships, and Zemo is simply needy but has no intentions of going further – and how can he, if he’s a baron, if he grew up in _Nazi Germany_ , if all those twisted teachings are embedded in him. 

They are complete opposites, but it's somehow working and they are slowly gravitating towards each other.

Captain America doesn’t know what do to, at least while that pink mask stands between him and Zemo’s face. Feeling his throat awfully dry, Rogers carefully touches Zemo’s neck:

“C-can I?” he asks, making Zemo frown in confusion. It’s definitely not an answer to Zemo’s statement, and the German should be indignant at Rogers stepping the line like that: it’s _Baron Zemo_ who decides when the mask goes off, not Captain America.

Yet Zemo nods, and feels as Rogers’ fingers brush the skin of his neck when Rogers grabs the mask and pulls it off. Something about the gesture sends a flaming spark to the pit of Zemo’s stomach and gives him goosebumps, and for a moment he forgets to breathe.

Pulling off Zemo’s mask is oddly enticing and Rogers’ dry throat goes impossibly drier. Standing next to Zemo, who’s sitting on a stool with his back very straight, Rogers looks down at the German’s face and searches for guidance there. He catches Zemo’s violet eyes and there’s something hiding there, a vulnerability peeking from behind all the coldness and hardness, and it’s exactly what Rogers needs.

Captain America might be still getting everything wrong, but that glint in Zemo’s eyes assures him Zemo needs him there and incentives him to throw caution - and upbringing - to the wind.

Rogers moistens his lips:

“Yeah, it’s diminishing…” he finally says, and smiles nervously. “How about… how about I make it up to you?”

Zemo merely blinks his eyes, confused at first, but he’s good at reading people and immediately knows Captain America is up to something. It fills him with curiosity and he tilts his head:

“Go on…”

“Uh… how about… the two of us… watching some movies…?” And Rogers feels like slapping himself for his silliness. _Watching movies, really????_ Is it Rogers’ great plan to make a move on Baron Zemo?? Rogers is about to suggest something more nobility-like, like sword-fighting, when Zemo smirks:

“Just us,” he repeats, and watches as Rogers reddens a little:

“Just us,” Rogers confirms.

If it’s just the two of them and Rogers explicitly said out loud he wants to make it up for Zemo… then the German can’t be meaningless. Zemo smiles widely and nods.

* * *

 

With Tony and Sam working on Kang’s tech in the lab, with the Hulk and Thor fighting monsters in Asgard and with Hawkeye and Natasha gone to a mission with S.H.I.E.L.D., after lunch the Avengers Tower is practically empty.

There are only Captain America and Baron Zemo, both in civilian clothes and unmasked, making sweet popcorn and chocolate milkshakes before settling down for the movies. Lately they haven’t had the chance to mess around in the kitchen together, and they realise they had missed it: despite playfully shoving each other aside and occasionally stealing the home-made popcorn, caramel and chocolate, it’s orderly and quiet fun, and Captain America, despite his friends… does appreciate peace and quiet, like Zemo does.

They have almost ten bowls of popcorn and two large mugs of chocolate milkshake, and while Rogers methodically caramelizes the last handful of popcorn, Zemo leans on the counter next to him and steals a popcorn from the pan:

“What are we going to watch, Steven?” he asks curiously. Rogers empties the pan into the remaining bowl and they take all the popcorn and milkshakes to the coffee table between the couch and the TV, in the living room:

“We’ll have plenty of time, so I thought we could watch some movies I’ve always wanted to watch, but never had the chance to,” Rogers explains and smiles apologetically for his egoism. They trot back to the kitchen to clean up everything first. “You probably know these: ‘Nosferatu’ and ‘Frankenstein’...”

Both pre-Second World War movies, the first German and the second American. Zemo, being a cultured man, has already watched these movies. But he doesn’t mind watching them again with company, and after tidying up the kitchen he and Rogers sit next to each other on the couch while F.R.I.D.A.Y. sets up the TV:

“If I may, I know a movie you might like,” Zemo states and reaches out for a bowl of popcorn that he cradles against his chest protectively (Thor’s and Clint’s appetite for other’s snacks seem to be affecting rehabbing super-villain Baron Zemo):

“Your highness, please, do spill the beans!”

“You sounded like Barton and it was awful…” Zemo complains with a smile. “The movie is called ‘Dead Poets Society’.”

“Never heard of it. F.R.I.D.A.Y., could you find that one too, please?”

"Of course, Captain," the AI replies while, slowly, the lights in the living room go off and the blinds on the full-length windows close to give a perfect cinema atmosphere to the living room – _cinema atmosphere_ , it’s not like Rogers is trying to give it the intimacy of a date.

With the addition of a third movie they’re in for a long movie afternoon. Which is just great, considering they have the living room all for themselves and Rogers can muster courage to casually throw his arm over the back of the couch, so that his arm is metaphorically wrapped around Zemo’s shoulders… and Captain America would totally do it if he had the gut and if only Baron Zemo hadn’t already done it, now that Clint and Thor didn’t pop up to eat the popcorn and it’s safe to simply let the popcorn bowl on his lap.

Rogers blushes a little, delighted by the gesture that only reassures him further that, at the least, Zemo is also looking for affection.

The first two movies are in black and white, but the third is in colour. Old colours, but still not as simple as black and white. Like the world. Rogers was born in that world of black and white, where one would be one thing or another and judged as right or wrong. Plain as that. But the world changed drastically while he was in the ice, tons of colours splashed everywhere and everything was never as simple as black and white again: one can be this or that or both or none or all and judging it right or wrong is a more complex process. Rogers didn’t see the world change and it’s hard for him to catch up, to let go of his mindset and adapt, evolve.

Zemo, on the other hand, _was there_ … and Rogers wonders what he thinks of it, of what changed. If he too tries to adapt or if he stubbornly refuses to let go of his mindset.

When the third movie ends, Rogers and Zemo are sitting closer to each other than when they first settled in the couch: their legs are touching, Rogers’ arms are crossed in front of his chest and he’s leaning slightly on Zemo’s side, Zemo’s arm is still on the back of the couch but his fingers are brushing Rogers’neck. They don’t move right away when F.R.I.D.A.Y. turns off the TV and the living room remains in dimness as the AI waits for Rogers to instruct her to switch on the lights again:

“You were right, I liked this movie,” Rogers shares and looks at Zemo, smiling. “How did you know?”

The German shrugs nonchalantly:

“I thought it fitting: you inspire those around you, and so did that teacher,” he says, leaving unspoken that Rogers’ influence causes a clash between deeply rooted and unquestionable values and a whole new and alluring perspective of the world… just like the teacher from the movie. Besides, the teacher was a hero to his students, and now that Zemo knows Rogers, he can tell that super-hero Captain America, a soldier who has seen more action than any man should, has this childish innocence about heroes and knights in shining armour… and probably would like one for himself. It must be tough, to be a super-hero for millions but having nobody to be that for him, and for a moment Zemo allows himself to wonder if Rogers would ever look at him like that.

If Baron Zemo could effectively be… a hero.

With Zemo’s answer, Captain America is slightly taken aback and his breath gets caught in his throat for a moment. Zemo has pretty much made a compliment and a confession in the same sentence and it touches Rogers deeply because… _he’s just Steve Rogers, a kid from Brooklyn_ , and he has inspired a man who had known no other model to look up than his own father, a man with as much history as Rogers, a baron who can have what he wants by simply snapping his fingers.

Rogers blushes heavily and wishes he had half of Zemo’s grace, sitting relaxed yet straight on the couch, elegant in his civilian black clothes and with a shadow of a smile playing on his thin lips. Clearing his throat, Captain America manages to look away, to the empty popcorn bowls and mugs on the coffee table:

“I bet I know what is your favourite character from this movie…” He feels Zemo’s eyes on him. “The kid who discovered he liked acting.”

There is a moment of silence and Rogers feels Zemo shift slightly next to him. Closer to him. He looks at the German again, still as graceful as a statue, but there’s again that vulnerability in his eyes that makes Rogers want to hug him:

“What gave me away?” Zemo asks quietly, and Rogers offers him a sad smile:

“The kid’s father…”

Zemo wants to be offended: the kid’s father was a tyrant who wanted to stop his son from expressing himself and wanted him to follow the path he chose, regardless of his son’s feelings; Heinrich Zemo wasn’t a tyrant, and he never stopped his son from expressing himself (except for a few slaps across the face that nowadays Helmut Zemo truly believes he deserved), and he never forced his son into a direction in life… simply pointed out the best way and Helmut was clever enough to follow it.

Slouching his shoulders, Baron Zemo can’t bring himself to be upset. Not now, that he’s having such a great time with Captain America, _his greatest enemy_. He doesn’t want to think about Hydra or about his father, who would be screeching in agony and ripping his heart out if he could see his son now, basking on Rogers’ attention and company.

In fact… _Baron Zemo wants more of it_. And by the determined look on Rogers’ face and the way he carefully takes Zemo’s hands into his own slightly shaky hands, it seems Captain America is willing to give it to him:

“I mean it when I say I like you a lot,” Rogers mumbles bravely, and he’s glad the living room is dim and Zemo won’t notice just how red his face is. Part of him wishes the floor would open and swallow him, to save him from this poor attempt at flirting. Flirting _a man_ that not so long ago _wanted him dead_ , but who turned out to be kind and selfless and genuinely good and understanding in a way no one else can be.

Zemo also likes Rogers a lot more than he should, but replying «Same.» would be embarrassingly few, the German realises with dread. He’s a brave man who does not back away from a challenge, but suddenly the English language feels alien and just inappropriate. He wants to say something, wants to ask Rogers to be together with him again and do something just the two of them – like… riding on horseback! How is that said in English…? All Zemo can do, at a loss of what to say, is to give an affectionate squeeze to Rogers’ hands.

Sitting on the couch, Zemo and Rogers are unaware of Iron Man and Falcon stepping out of the lift and into the dim living room:

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., lights!” Tony requests, frowning and looking around. The living room becomes abruptly bright, and from where he stands Tony can spot two blond heads leaning close to each other but immediately jumping apart the moment the lights are on again. One of the blond heads disappears under a black balaclava and Baron Zemo stands up from the couch with clenched fists – and oh, if only Baron Zemo could kill with his eyes, Iron Man and Falcon would have evaporated from the surface of earth. “Why were all the lights off, guys??”

“We were watching movies!!” Rogers explains sheepishly, peeking from the couch – and is that Steve Rogers’ face or a tomato pretending to be him???? Tony narrows his eyes and looks at Zemo suspiciously: something was going on… something _embarrassing_ : Tony Stark – billionaire, genius – is an expert in embarrassment.

If Baron Zemo thinks he can abash _Captain America_ , he’s so very wrong! Iron Man is about to tell him to leave Rogers alone and never mock him again, when Zemo quickly collects empty popcorn bowls and mugs and takes it all to kitchen to wash them. Rogers joins him and, with two super-soldiers in the kitchen, there isn’t much room for Falcon and Iron Man to walk around – so they simply grab some snacks from the pantry and go watch a documentary on the TV.

This is a rather clumsy way to wrap up their nice movie afternoon and both Rogers and Zemo are somewhat upset about it. There are things left unsaid, and Rogers was hoping he would hold hands with Zemo for a little longer and Zemo was really expecting a hug.

Baron Zemo and Captain America are both highly strategical men who don’t make a move without measuring the consequences – that is, of course, until something big happens that makes them act on impulse. Rogers isn’t an impulsive man and he likes to guide himself through carefully thought-out plans and clear orders – but Helmut Zemo has just something that makes Rogers want to act first and think later, and it’s both terrifying and fantastic because of the novelty of it.

On the other hand, Zemo, being an impetuous and passionate man, is much more prone to jumping head-first into something without even thinking about it. And that is exactly what he does: he wants Rogers’ attention and affection, and Baron Zemo shall have what he wants – especially because Rogers seems to be willing to give it all to him:

“I was wondering if you would like to watch more movies tomorrow,” Zemo blurts out, washing bowl after bowl on the sink and handing them to Rogers, who wipes them dry and stores them in the cupboard. “There are these Russian movie and TV series you might like…”

Rogers looks at the German and smiles widely, almost dropping the bowl he’s holding:

“Sure!! I mean- I’ve got some briefings in the morning, but… we could make lunch and… movies…?”

Zemo nods, smiling widely under the black balaclava.

After washing and storing again the bowls and mugs, Zemo goes into his bedroom. Rogers intends to go change clothes and go out for a run in the park, but before he can make it out of the living room, Tony calls him and he walks back to the couch, to sit next to his friend.

Iron Man looks at him intently while Falcon simply watches, confused:

“What did he do to you?” Tony asks, very serious, and Rogers frowns a little:

“Uh?”

“What did Zemo do to you? He was making fun of your clothes, wasn’t he?”

“Why would he…?” And Rogers looks down at himself, feeling suddenly insecure: grey t-shirt, blue jeans and black trainers – it seemed appropriate because it wasn’t too formal to the point of screaming date but elegant enough for an enjoyable afternoon in the company of a handsome baron. Or maybe not. Maybe Rogers should never get out of his Captain America suit…:

“Then why were you as red as a freaking tomato??” Tony asks and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Falcon decides it’s the perfect time to go to the kitchen and get more snacks.

Captain America was almost busted. _Steve Rogers cannot let his friends know he’s falling for Zemo._ No no no. Number one, no matter how much the world has changed and how society is more open to the concept of two men together… it goes against everything Rogers was taught and he’s terrified of what everyone would think of him if they knew. Number two, the Avengers would think Zemo hypnotised Rogers again and would certainly lock him away in the Vaults. Number three, Rogers himself is still coming to terms with it and he’s not even sure Zemo will fully reciprocate his feelings.

Besides… it’s simply none of Tony’s business. Rogers loves his friends, especially Tony, who’s his best friend… but he just doesn’t feel comfortable in telling him he was holding hands with rehabbing evil super-villain Baron Zemo:

“It was nothing, you just spooked us by turning on the lights like that…” Rogers mutters and leaves the living room hurriedly. Tony watches him go with narrowed eyes, and he’s still pretty sure Zemo was making fun of Rogers’ clothes – everyone does because Steve Rogers, in an attempt at modesty that his old clothes from the 40ies gave him, goes for straight jeans… but his every try at loose-fitting t-shirts or sweaters constantly fails because of his muscles. Rogers blames it on the industrial production of clothes, but the Avengers simply enjoy making fun of that poor man out of time and his inability to allow himself to show off his body. Shouldn’t be hard for a man who wears such a tight uniform, right? And it should make him feel good, considering Rogers was skinny and frail before, right? Wrong, and the Avengers love to tease their friend about it. 

So, if they make fun of Rogers about his clothes – albeit not in a malicious way – then Baron Zemo, being the evil thing he is, must do the same thing too.

* * *

 

The next morning, Rogers, Zemo, Tony and Sam are all sitting at the kitchen isle having breakfast. Zemo is reading Sam’s PowerPoint presentation on his laptop, giving him some tips to improve it, and Sam is doing it as quickly as possible; Rogers and Tony are talking about the upcoming briefings with S.H.I.E.L.D. and how Nick Fury is going to want a detailed report on Zemo’s rehab into goodness.

Hawkeye and Black Widow haven’t returned from their mission yet, nor have Thor and the Hulk returned from Asgard.

Little later, Sam darts off to college with a winning presentation in his laptop. Not long after Sam going to class, Rogers promises Zemo he won’t take long so that they can make lunch together and enjoy another movie session, then leaves for the briefings.

Only Iron Man and Baron Zemo remain at the kitchen isle, finishing breakfast in awkward silence, until Tony clears his throat:

“Don’t make fun of Steve’s clothes, ok? He’s sensitive about it,” he says sternly, and Zemo chokes on his last piece of toast. With his mask rolled up just enough to expose his mouth, Baron Zemo is very glad he won’t be seen blushing - why on earth is such a magnificent man like Rogers uncomfortable in his skin?:

“ _What???_ ”

“Yeah, poor Steve was as red as a tomato yesterday!”

“I was not- we were not- _why would I pick on his clothes, Stark_??????”

Because you’re evil! sounds ridiculously childish and Tony Stark is not childish. With a frown, Iron Man decides to let this one go because Rogers had looked quite happy at breakfast, so whatever happened between him and Zemo the day before didn’t upset him:

“Right…” Iron Man grunts, stirring his chocolate cereal in the bowl absentmindedly. Then he frowns and narrows his eyes at Zemo. “What was that untranslatable gibberish, really?”

“Are you still thinking about that?” The German grins victoriously: hurting Iron Man’s pride sure is rewarding. Zemo considers his options: he can either tell Tony – and then Tony will develop a new translating software – or he can politely tell him to bug off. The look on Iron Man’s face upon learning Zemo can speak Medieval German must be hilarious, so Zemo opts for bragging about his skills. “Very well, Stark. It was Old High German, spoken roughly between the eighth and eleventh centuries.”

Tony groans and facepalms, and of course it had to be some fancy variation of German:

“Why would you even-“

“Do not question greatness,” And Zemo gives Iron Man his smuggest grin before pulling down his mask again, to which Tony replies with an eye-roll:

“Anyway… I’m going to work on my armour for a bit, then I need you to come by the lab: I think I figured out some pieces of Kang’s tech.”

“Have the AI calling me when you finish your armour: I will be training,” Zemo nods, and is glad about having a busy morning – time will pass faster and, before he knows it, he and Rogers will be making lunch together and watching movies.

* * *

 

Zemo pauses the training with robots in the enclosed training area to refill his bottle of water in the kitchen. Not wanting to waste time, he makes his way to the kitchen with his weapons.

Baron Zemo, so full of manners and whatnot, likes tap water and waits patiently as his bottle fills up again. He then takes a long chug, arranges his mask again and closes the bottle: he’s not exactly tired, but he can already feel the training acting on his muscles. He must have spent a few hours fighting off robots, and if the AI doesn’t call him soon to go check on Kang’s technology in Iron Man’s lab, then Baron Zemo is going to shower and change clothes because he has a lunch to make and movies to watch with Rogers.

Totally not a date. He just wants a bit of affection.

The German puts down his bottle of water on the counter, next to the sink, and thinks about checking the time on his mobile. But as he makes the movement to pick up his mobile from one of his belt pouches, he feels a searing pain in the back of his skull and everything goes dark as Zemo has the worrying impression of falling into a void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and don't forget to leave a comment, please! :3


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooooo sorry this took longer than usual... ;-; Paperwork and bureaucracy are a terrible, terrible things.  
> So, if there's too many typos and misspellings it's because I was in such a hurry to update that I didn't even check the new chapter properly. :')
> 
> Also, thank you guys for your support! I really appreciate it and it fuels my writing!

The briefings were unusually boring and of course that Nick Fury wants daily reports of Zemo’s rehab into goodness…

In the lift going up to the living quarters, Rogers sighs tiredly; yet, a small smile plays on his lips, and he can’t wait to just have a quick shower, change clothes, go make lunch with Zemo and spend another cosy movie-evening with him. Or maybe he should stay in his suit, considering Tony’s comment about his clothes the day before…

Rogers’ concerns about what to wear are quickly put aside when the doors of the lift open and he’s met by a lively argument in the kitchen, between Hawkeye and Iron Man; Natasha is simply watching with a frown and she’s the only one to notice Rogers stepping out of the lift:

“Guys? What’s wrong?” Rogers asks, and Tony turns around swiftly to look at him, fists standing firmly on his hips:

“Zemo’s gone!” Tony informs angrily. “The bastard somehow disabled F.R.I.D.A.Y., locked me in the lab for hours and left!”

“But his stuff is right here!!” Hawkeye complains as angrily as Tony, pointing accusingly to Zemo’s weapons, belt and earpiece on the kitchen isle and bottle of water near the sink. “That’s not like him!!”

“One at a time!” Rogers commands, alarm bells ringing in his head – because Zemo doesn’t just leave his stuff out of place… and he wouldn’t go anywhere without his sword. Rogers knows better than any of the Avengers how much the German loves his sword. Something must have happened, something that is no good. “From the beginning. Tony, tell me your version.”

“So, this morning I told Zemo I’d have F.R.I.D.A.Y. calling him to the lab to see my conclusions on some of Kang’s tech,” Tony begins, aggravated. “But after working in my armour for a while, all the lights went off, all the doors locked and all F.R.I.D.A.Y. could say was that someone had partially shut her down with malware!! And when I finally managed to put her back online, Zemo was no longer in the Tower and there is no security footage of what really happened!”

“Clint, your version…” Rogers requests, a million catastrophic scenarios involving Zemo and mercenaries crossing his mind:

“Nat and I just arrived, so we didn’t see the lock-down…  and we found Tony here, complaining about Zemo betraying us. But come on, have you never seen what Zemo does when the carpets are wrinkled or the cartons of milk in the fridge are not lined up?? He would never leave his stuff here _and_ in disarray!” And to prove his point, Clint tells everyone to gather in semi-circle behind him while he shows them various short videos on his mobile of an unsuspecting Zemo being suddenly confronted by wrinkled carpets on the floor, or disarranged stuff in the kitchen – including inside the fridge. All videos are the same: Zemo arranges everything perfectly and discreetly, Hawkeye and Thor chuckle and by doing so give away their hiding place or that they had been watching without Zemo knowing it and then Zemo yells at them and chases them for a while complaining and barking empty threats.

Clint chuckles, amused, and after showing all the videos puts his mobile away:

“I’m making a compilation of Zemo being compulsive-obsessive to post on YouTube…” he sighs happily, only to frown again. “He didn’t leave the tower on his own will!”

“What do you think, Nat?” Rogers asks, though he’s completely sure Baron Zemo was kidnapped. And that is very, very bad: there might still be some Hydra lose ends who want to finish what the Red Skull started and Rogers has just proven unable to protect one of his friends – not to mention the disastrous consequences this might have on Zemo’s rehab into goodness…

“I agree with Clint,” Black Widow ignores Tony’s glower. “Zemo wouldn’t go anywhere without his weapons... and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t leave without his mobile, either: it was ringing just before you arrived, Steve.”

“We’re dealing with a kidnapping, then!” Rogers is in full Captain America mode and starts barking orders. “Tony, double-check F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s files on today’s morning; Widow, contact S.H.I.E.L.D.; Clint, go get Falcon to college: this is an emergency and I need all you guys!” Thor and the Hulk better return soon, or Rogers will personally fetch them from Asgard…

Shortly after, Rogers and Iron Man are standing in front of a large touch-screen in the conference room. Tony’s brow is furrowed both in concentration in the task ahead and in displease at the whole situation – he’s still pretty convinced Zemo has tricked them:

“Ok, so we were all together in the kitchen at eight, then at half past eight Sam left, then you left at a quarter to nine, and at nine I went down to my lab and Zemo went to train,” Tony enumerates as he scrolls down past security footage and audio files. “But thirteen minutes after ten, F.R.I.D.A.Y. was partially shut down, I spent about two and a half hours fixing her and when I went to look for Zemo – don’t look at me like that, Steve; of course I suspected him right away! – the sneaky bastard was gone! And I have nothing since ten to tell me what happened!!” Turning around to face Rogers, Tony’s frown disappears slowly when he’s met by Rogers’ distressed face. “I’m sorry, Steve… but I warned you that he wasn’t reliable!”

Captain America simply shakes his head disapprovingly and starts to pace back and forth. He _knows_ Zemo is reliable – all that has happened so far points in that direction! He _knows_ Zemo wouldn’t go anywhere without his beloved sword. But how to prove all this?

He feels suddenly hurt about his best friend not trusting his instinct and decides that he’ll singlehandedly look for Zemo and bring him back. _Rogers cannot have another Bucky in his life_.

Black Widow joins them, tapping on a tablet urgently:

“S.H.I.E.L.D. detected a small jet entering the city’s aerial space this morning. They didn’t intercept it because it headed to the tower and left again shortly after,” she tells, showing Tony and Rogers various radars accusing a small flying object approaching, landing on and then leaving again the Avengers Tower.

Of course, with flying Avengers and their flying devices, S.H.I.E.L.D. has long ago given up on policing small jets on the skies of New York City…

“The timeline makes sense…” Tony acknowledges; the approximation of the jet coincides with F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s shut down:

“A kidnap!” Rogers could beam for being right if only this wasn’t so serious:

“We have no way of tracking down this jet… or Zemo…” Natasha says:

“Still, it could be-“ Tony tries a last time, only to give up the moment he sees Rogers’ hurt expression.

Captain America, Iron Man’s best friend, truly believes someone went through the trouble of kidnapping Baron Zemo, the biggest nuisance that has ever walked on earth. For Rogers’ sake, Tony will believe this was actually a kidnapping and will give his best to find Zemo’s whereabouts:

“Ok, Widow… give me all S.H.I.E.L.D. has on that jet; I’ll try to establish a rout for it…” he says with a defeated sigh.

* * *

 

Thor and the Hulk return shortly after, and so do Clint and Falcon, bringing along Ant-Man, Ms. Marvel and the Thunderbolts:

“Nobody can kidnap Zemo while I don’t have at least fifty videos of him arranging cutlery and cushions!” Hawkeye complains in a way of explaining why he brought reinforcements, pacing back and forth in the conference room while Tony, Sam and Techno gather as much information as they can. Rogers is sitting away from the others, frowning in worry and allowing guilt to viciously gnaw at him: this is his fault… if only he had kept his hands to himself in the park, now Zemo wouldn’t have been taken by some bounty-hunter.

But finally, after a painfully long wait, Tony has information to share:

“Ok, this jet appeared in the radars from south and disappeared from the radars in the northeast. It hasn’t popped up in any other radars, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s or not, since it left the state. Which means the jet probably took a route through rural or wild areas, and that is bad, because I can’t track it down… and since Zemo doesn’t have his earpiece, I can’t track his location either,” Hearing this, Rogers’ shoulders sag disappointedly:

“But we cannot abandon our friend!” Thor complains:

“Yeah, we need to try to find him!” Hawkeye nods in agreement:

“Then we have a long day ahead if we’re gonna search every abandoned building big and remote enough to hide a jet, in the northeast…” Tony grunts, but he can’t stand to see Rogers looking so miserable: if it had been one of their own, a friend, a super-hero, they would be doing the exact same thing – perhaps more enthusiastically…

“So… we’re just going to… go? With no exact location?” Ant-Man asks with a bit of reluctance, and why did Clint even drag him into this, Lang doesn’t care about Zemo! Yet Hawkeye, sitting next to him, clears his throat. “Uh… can we at least grab some burgers in the way…?”

Everybody stands up to leave to the Aven-Jet when Zemo’s mobile – Rogers is carrying his stuff – begins to ring. The mobile is usually in silent mode but when it rings, it still draws the attention of some Avengers because at any moment Zemo might try to plot something against them. This time, however, the monotonous ringing sounds eerie and makes everyone stop in their tracks, exchanging looks.

Taking in a deep breath to muster courage, Rogers picks up the mobile. He isn’t surprised to see Klaus’ name and picture in the screen, yet the little bravery he had gathered shatters. Captain America sees it all again, the lightning-visits to the families of soldiers killed during the war and then returning to the theatres of operations: mothers pulling at their hair in agony, fathers trying to put on a brave face but tearing up, siblings running inside the houses to cry.

And now he’ll go through it again: he’ll have to tell someone their relative is missing – not dead yet, Rogers refuses to believe Zemo would be simply executed, and as bad as it sounds he’s hoping his captors will keep him alive as long as possible, so that _he_ can find him and rescue him.

Swallowing with difficulty, Rogers answers the call:

“Hello Klaus, it’s me… Captain Rogers,” he says in what he hopes to be a reassuring tone. But he has personally met the very straightforward Klaus, and he shuts his eyes and presses his lips in a bitter line when the German goes immediately to the question Rogers didn’t want him to make:

“Where is Helmut?”

* * *

 

Rogers does the maths easily: Zemo has been kidnapped for precisely six hours and eleven minutes. It’s a lot of time to be at the hands of captors, even with the aid of the super-soldier serum. But what Rogers dreads the most are the consequences this situation will have in Zemo’s behaviour and trust in the Avengers, in team-work… and in Rogers.

If they don’t find Zemo soon, Klaus will call again, and Rogers will have to tell him his cousin is still missing… and he does not want to do that. Also, Captain America is pretty sure that, across the Atlantic, in Germany, an army of resolute relatives led by Klaus is gathering to plan to rescue their cousin.

The super-heroes are tired and there are still no clues as to where the jet and Zemo went to. So far, they have looked on every abandoned warehouse, factory, barn, train station and building they found – Rogers even made Black Widow land the Aven-Jet on an abandoned cemetery to look for Zemo there.

Tony has tried to talk to Rogers about the whole thing being Zemo’s plan and that the German won’t be found while he doesn’t want to. The other super-heroes share Iron Man’s point, except for Thor and Hawkeye.

Captain America is still certain this is Hydra’s doing, and he won’t stop looking for his missing rehabbing super-villain/unofficial team-mate/friend… and object of his affection.

The silence in the Aven-Jet is tense and many start to shift uncomfortably on their seats as a new potential place appears: an abandoned filling station. Rogers’ hope raises a little bit and maybe now they’ll finally rescue Zemo.

Hawkeye looks around and tries to ease the mood a little:

“Ever heard of ‘Finding Nemo’? We’re more like… Finding Zemo!” He chuckles, but he just gets a collective annoyed grunt from the other super-heroes:

“His colour-scheme isn’t even orange…” Ms. Marvel states:

“By the way, have any of you ever seen his face?” Atlas asks curiously.

All eyes turn to Rogers, inquiringly, and Captain America is glad that his face is partially covered by his mask, so that no one will see him blush:

“I have…” he confesses, and that earns him a glower from Iron Man:

“Well, thank you for sharing that with us! It’s not like we’re interested in knowing what Baron Zemo looks like… Just security, you know?”

“Funny that you talk about security, considering he was taken from the _Avengers Tower_ …” Rogers grunts in response. Zemo’s face is nobody’s business: if the German willingly showed it to _Rogers_ , then Captain America believes he has the right to be selfish and keep this bit of knowledge about Baron Zemo for himself.

Before things sour even more, Natasha lands the jet hurriedly and it jolts strongly at the first contact with the ground, distracting Tony and Rogers from their argument.

Captain America is the first to rush out of the jet, followed by Thor and Hawkeye, and they immediately run into the decayed shop.

The door is ajar but the windows are blocked with boards, leaving the inside dim. The three need to wait for Falcon to join them and scan the area, but thanks to the weak beams of light that manage their way between board gaps Rogers can see the shop is in complete disarray, with upturned and misplaced shelves, scattered shopping carts, a broken office chair… and god knows what the darkness further into the shop is hiding. Rogers shifts his weight to his other leg and feels broken glass shatter into million pieces under his boots. There’s an odd smell in the shop, and looking attentively at a shelf he spots something that looks way too much like bullet holes.

But Falcon’s scan accuses nothing, no enemy comes to meet them and nobody answers when they call.

Thor and Hawkeye exchange a look, and the Asgardian rests a friendly hand on Rogers’ shoulder:

“Come, Steve. We will find him,” he assures, very certain of his words. _When_ they are going to find Zemo, however, Thor isn’t sure…

With a disappointed sigh, Captain America follows Thor, Hawkeye and Falcon outside, where the others are waiting by the fuel dispensers:

“Now we know: as soon as we get Zemo, we’ll put a tracking device on his headband…” Clint suggests, and even though he’s joking Tony thinks it’s actually a good idea. If, of course, they find Baron Zemo…

They divide in small groups to search in the surroundings of the filling station, even if it seems very unlikely that a kidnapper and their victim would hide among shrubs.

That is when Natasha sees movement in the vegetation, but before she can even think about it a group of armed men, wearing urban camo, bullet-proof vests, knee- and elbow-pads and helmets, jumps at her group with a battle cry and open fire.

Natasha, Ms. Marvel and Songbird, caught off guard, immediately take cover. The other super-heroes run to them to help and the men in urban camo are then outnumbered and outpowered. Still, they resist viciously, shooting at everything that moves and throwing stun grenades at the super-heroes, changing positions and flanking and circling them.

Until one of the men spots Rogers’ shield with the white star and drops his rifle, then raises his hands in the air:

“Cease fire!!! Cease fire!!” he commands in a hoarse yet powerful voice that is somehow heard above the fray. “It’s the Avengers!!”

Slowly, the fighting stops. The super-heroes are both confused and indignant: the men appear to not be the enemy… so, why did they attack them?

Rogers walks up to the man that shouted to cease fire, the commander of the group. Removing his helmet respectfully, the man – young, early twenties – looks in awe at the approaching Avenger:

“Explain yourself, son!” Rogers demands, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he takes in the group’s uniforms: it’s simply urban camo, no insignias, no Hydra logos…

“We saw your jet. It’s the second we see today and well… we though it suspicious: we come here regularly and we’ve never seen this much movement in the sky,” the man excuses himself, eyes wide in wonder. His group removes their helmets as well, looking at the super-heroes expectantly.

Rogers perks up at the man’s words and his hope skyrockets:

“The second jet you see today?” he repeats, and the man nods. “Where did the first go? How long was that?”

“It headed north, to the city. But it was hours ago, maybe around lunch…” another man says, stepping forward sheepishly and cradling a rifle that he taps lightly with a finger. “Would… would you sign my rifle, sir? I’m a huge fan, I’m so sorry we shot at you!”

“Who are you?” Black Widow asks, crossing her arms defensively, but the Avengers and the Thunderbolts have nothing to fear – they were simply attacked by a group of spooked airsoft players that use the abandoned filling station as their usual playground.

* * *

 

There’s a construction site in the outskirts of the city: it’s large and remote enough to hide a small jet and, by the way the unfinished buildings are covered in graffiti and there are no machines in sight, the construction has been stopped for a while.

Natasha lands the Aven-Jet in a small hill near the construction site and the super-heroes sneak in through a large gap in the fence – they didn’t see any guard by the main gate and Tony’s and Sam’s heat scans have accused just two people, but they approached at a high altitude to avoid being spotted and Rogers does not want to jeopardize the rescue mission.

A small black jet is standing right there, at the other side of the fence. It’s a stolen military prototype and that confirms Rogers’ theory of mercenary work. Even Tony agrees that the whole thing seems too shady to be any of Zemo’s doing: the German, being the megalomaniac he is, would certainly go for a bigger jet and with a Hydra logo in it – or just something that announced his person.

Beyond the jet stands the main building: twenty floors complete, with an underground and ground-level garages and a tunnel passage to what seems to be a small patio formed by the other unfinished buildings; none of the windows are boarded and the electrical installation, though exposed, is working because the passage leading to the garage is lit.

An eerie silence fills the construction site, and even the Hulk is being careful not to make a sound:

“The heat signatures come from the garages,” Iron Man informs after scanning the area. Rogers nods:

“They must be holding Helmut in the underground garage. Avengers, assemble!” And he’s the first to run into the passage, stealthily, followed closely by his team.

The passage to the underground garage is littered by empty oil drums and large paint cans. The super-heroes’ steps echo in the silence and there’s the constant buzzing of the ceiling lights, casting a ghostly white light immediately beneath them but leaving the walls and corners of the passage in darkness. But Tony’s and Sam’s scans accuse nobody in the passage, and the group reaches the garage undisturbed.

The garage is a large rectangular space, but very badly lit: only four of the twenty ceiling lights are working and there are no windows. There are disassembled scaffolds piled along one of the graffitied walls and the ground is covered in dirt and litter. In the centre of the garage, between two pillars and directly under a functioning light, stands a lonely chair with a figure shackled to it.

Rogers’ heart is leaping madly in his chest and the super-heroes rush to the chair hoping that they’ll get Zemo and leave unnoticed and without a fight.

But as they approach and gather in semi-circle in front of the chair, they realise this isn’t Baron Zemo:

“Taskmaster…?” Hawkeye whispers, confused.

Taskmaster is sitting very quiet and straight, unarmed, looking ahead to a place only he can see. His wrists and ankles are shackled to the chair and the mercenary is irresponsive to the super-heroes:

“Taskmaster? Where’s Baron Zemo?” Captain America asks and shakes the mercenary by the shoulder. But Taskmaster’s body is limp and he doesn’t say a word.

Natasha frowns and looks around suspiciously:

“It looks like… hypnosis,” she says, and Mr. Marvel raises her eyebrows:

“Are you saying that Baron Zemo hypnotised _Taskmaster_ , one of the toughest baddies there is??”

“We need to find him,” Rogers urges the others, alarmed. The shackles restraining Taskmaster are nothing out of the ordinary, which means a super-soldier – like Rogers and Zemo – would easily break them. But instead, Zemo went through the trouble of hypnotising Taskmaster and make the mercenary switch places with him – it can mean that the German is simply clever and sneaky, but Rogers fears he might be badly injured and was forced to use cunningness over brute force.

Though Baron Zemo is capable of both with frightening ease.

There are narrow stairs at the other end of the garage, certainly leading up and with the heavy door ajar. The other person in the ground-level garage might be a guard, and perhaps Zemo hypnotised Taskmaster to avoid drawing attention. Or maybe that second person is Zemo and he needs help. Or maybe it’s actually a guard and Zemo left through the passage the Avengers used.

Rogers is considering splitting the team and send each group in a different way when Hawkeye steps over something that breaks with the characteristic sound of shattering glass. It was a syringe, and Tony scans the little pieces quickly:

“Hm, interesting. This contained sedative!” he informs, frowning. “I’m guessing Zemo wasn’t easy to handle…”

“Wait a minute… if he was sedated, how did he hypnotise Taskmaster?” Clint asks, confused, and everyone looks at Rogers, who bites his lower lip thoughtfully:

“I don’t think just a dose of sedative would stop a super-soldier…” he confesses. Still, it could have affected Zemo, and maybe he’s badly injured and a bit stunned. _In need of rescuing_. Rogers sighs. “Ok: Hulk, bring Taskmaster with us. Tony, can you find any traces of where Helmut went to?”

Tony scans the area, but whatever direction Zemo took, it was too long ago and the heat signatures are gone. The only remaining signature is the person in the ground-level garage.

Captain America thinks it’s a good idea for them to split, but Iron Man doesn’t want to take the risk: they can all go together, deal with the enemy and then split to look for Zemo in the entirety of the construction site. Rogers grudgingly agrees, not wanting to waste more time, and the super-heroes decide to try the stairs.

The staircase is narrow and dark, with some strange dark shapes on the steps. Black Widow switches on a small flashlight and points it to one of the things leaning against a wall that turns out to be a dead Hydra soldier. The group gasps and Atlas immediately covers Ms. Marvel’s eyes:

“Seems Zemo did a pretty good job on helping himself…” Tony comments in shock as Natasha points her flashlight to the other dark figures that are also dead Hydra soldiers. The bodies are slashed and pierced and one is even beheaded – Rogers swallows slowly, and he wouldn’t need to have sword-fighting lessons with Zemo to recognise the work of a long and sharp blade: Taskmaster’s «borrowed» sword. The steps are covered in blood, abandoned laser-blasters and there’s a trail of booted footprints proceeding up the stairs:

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is not gonna like this…” Hawkeye mutters quietly and removes his sunglasses.

It has been a while since any of the super-heroes saw a dead body. An unfortunate first to Kamala, who clings to Atlas for comfort and mutters repeatedly this is not going to give her nightmares because she has seen worst in ‘The Walking Dead’.

Captain America shakes his head and urges the group to proceed. They need to find Zemo – if he wasn’t badly injured before, he certainly is after singlehandedly fighting and killing a handful of Hydra soldiers. Avoiding the spilled blood and bodies as best as they can, the super-heroes climb the stairs that lead to the ground-level garage, where there is only more dimness, litter, broken glass, piles of bricks, more two dead Hydra soldiers… and someone sitting on the ground and chained to a pillar:

“That’s… Crimson Widow!” Iron Man says:

“Taskmaster and Belova? Well, Hydra really hates Zemo…” Natasha comments with a grimace.

Evidence of brutal fighting becomes clear as the group walks past the two dead men and approaches Crimson Widow: patches of ground without dust, pieces of broken boards, splashes of blood and a discarded tranquiliser gun that Mach-IV picks up to inspect:

“Empty,” he declares. Black Widow crouches next an unconscious Yelena Belova:

“She’s got a nasty wound back here…” she states, noticing that the hair on the back of Crimson Widow’s head is pasty with dried blood. Her face is badly bruised, there are cuts all over her body and her wrists are chained to the pillar very tightly. “I don’t think the tranquilisers worked at all…”

“Might not have worked immediately,” Sam corrects as Mach-IV hands him the gun for inspection. “I’m pretty sure that, even with the super-soldier serum, by now Zemo is feeling something.”

The last thing Captain America needs is having Baron Zemo killed by an overdose of tranquilisers. They must find him as soon as possible and take him to a S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital.

With a grunt, the Hulk breaks the chains restraining Crimson Widow to the pillar and throws her over his free shoulder; Taskmaster, on his other shoulder, is still impassive and looking to a place only he can see.

The super-heroes leave the ground-level garage through a poorly-lit passage that leads to the patio among the buildings. Songbird nearly stumbles on a head whose body is sprawled at the entrance of the patio, together with Taskmaster’s broken sword and a powerful energy-blaster rifle. Dozens of tranquiliser darts are scattered on the floor:

“Ok, forget what I said before: tranquilisers can’t possibly work on super-soldiers…” Falcon says in quiet horror:

“Zemo must be really pissed…!” Fixer comments and looks around the patio, frowning. “More two dead guys, near that building over there!”

“I’m pretty sure that bundle near the gate was… someone…” Ant-Man mutters, frowning in shock.

With Ms. Marvel’s eyes covered by Atlas’ hand, the group of super-heroes goes outside, to the patio among the three buildings. There’s an unnatural silence in the construction site, and not even the sounds from the nearby city reach there. The twilight sky is darkening, promising a warm and starry late Spring night.

Iron Man takes off and hovers in front of each building for a while, until he returns to the expecting group:

“I think Zemo isn’t here anymore; the buildings are empty and there’s tire marks on the dirt, by the gate,” Rogers widens his eyes, hopeful, but Tony shakes his head. “The track disappears in the asphalt road and there are no heat signatures: Zemo either escaped on his own or was captured and taken a few hours ago…”

 _Hours ago_. Rogers is late. Rogers has been unable to save a friend again. A memory of Bucky flashes before his eyes, followed by another memory from the day before, of Zemo smiling at him.

Captain America can’t allow another Bucky in his life. He must keep looking for Zemo, must save him, must-

A hand on his shoulder startles him and he looks with wide eyes at Thor, who tries to give him a comforting smile:

“Come, Steve… We shall go back to the jet and keep looking for our friend,” he says. Ant-Man shifts his weight from one leg to the other, uneasy:

“Like… today? Right now?” He looks around. “It’s almost dinner time and-“

“You don’t need to come if you don’t want to,” Rogers replies immediately. Now he knows better than to drag everyone else into something involving Zemo – the failed horseback riding tour was enough lesson. Thor squeezes his shoulder softly and Hawkeye comes to stand next to him:

“We’re going with you, Cap!” the archer assures.

The other super-heroes exchange looks but before any of them can say anything, Iron Man speaks, lifting his faceplate:

“We’re a team, we’re _all_ going,” he commands, earning a thankful nod from Rogers. They will all continue looking for Zemo, and they will find him, and then Tony Stark will tie him to a rocket and send him to the dark side of the moon where all the Nazis live so that Zemo will live happily amongst his kind and _never again_ cause this much trouble to the Avengers.

Baron Zemo isn’t there to watch as his plan unfolds perfectly: he has successfully split the super-heroes, his well-being is fuel for arguments and Captain America is losing credibility because of his liking on the German. Heinrich Zemo would certainly be proud of his son’s achievements.

The group of super-heroes returns to the Aven-Jet, most of them clearly upset about Tony’s decision and voicing their opinions very loudly. Taskmaster and Crimson Widow, still as they were found, are shackled and thrown to the back of the jet like cargo.

But as the jet is about to take off, F.R.I.D.A.Y. sends an important message that nearly makes Captain America miss his seat and fall flat on his butt:

“Baron Zemo has returned to the Avengers Tower,” the AI informs, sounding almost surprised.

* * *

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. keeps the Avengers updated as Black Widow takes them back in the fastest flight in the team’s history. So far, all the super-heroes know is that their rehabbing super-villain in distress crashed a black SUV on the ground-floor of the Avengers Tower, then got in the lift and went to the small hospital, where he collapsed on the floor and hasn’t been able to stand up despite stubborn attempts at doing so.

Rogers is doing his best to be silent and not urge Natasha to go faster because _she’s already doing so_. Still, Captain America wishes the jet could go faster, or that Thor could use one of his Asgardian portals to take them to the Tower, or that New York City wasn’t this far.

Finally, two hours later, Natasha lands the Aven-Jet on the lawn next to the tower and Rogers doesn’t even wait for the door to open: the moment there’s an opening, he squeezes himself through it and runs to the ground-floor of the tower.

The glass doors are no more and the floor is covered in shattered glass. There are tire marks on the floor, the front of a black SUV became one with the nearest wall and is completely destroyed; the windscreen is heavily cracked and the airbag was activated with the collision. Both the airbag and driver’s seat are bloodstained, and there’s a trail of blood leaving the SUV to the lift.

There’s a large, bloody handprint over the lift button, but Rogers presses it anyway. His only hesitation is getting in the lift: there’s an even larger bloodstain on a wall, where Zemo leaned against for support, and blood on the floor, and yet another bloody handprint on the button to the hospital floor. Swallowing hard, Rogers gets in the lift and presses the button.

Due to the super-soldier serum, it’s very unlikely that Zemo is in danger of bleeding out. That doesn’t mean he’s comfortable and free of pain, and Rogers is seriously worried about how much the German is suffering. And god knows how he feels after being shot with so many tranquilisers and fighting his way out of captivity – in fact, the way the drugs might react with the serum is what concerns Rogers the most, and the seconds the lift takes from the ground-floor to the hospital feel endless.

Zemo’s mobile starts to ring at the same time the doors of the lift open. Rogers hurriedly squeezes himself through the increasing opening on the doors, without even waiting for the doors to open completely. The bloody trail leads into the hospital, and from where Rogers stands in the corridor he can see Zemo on the floor.

With a knot in the pit of his stomach and running to the German, Rogers picks up the mobile from a pouch of his belt and answers right away, without even needing to look at the picture and number on the screen to know who it is:

“I’ve got Helmut!” Rogers blurts out as he kneels next to Zemo.

Baron Zemo is a bloody mess, but most of the blood on him isn’t his. His suit is just torn on his left shoulder and thighs, but the wounds are almost completely healed; there are puncture marks all over his suit, where the tranquiliser darts hit him; his eyes are closed and he’s spasming violently.

Captain America is glad that Zemo’s cousin can’t see him through the phone, but Klaus’ relieved sigh is almost as bad as if he were able to witness the scene:

“Is he alright?” Klaus asks urgently, and in the background Rogers can hear more voices speaking in German.

Zemo clearly isn’t alright, and yet he managed to escape his captors and return to the Avengers Tower all by himself. Drugged like that and drove an SUV for hours and to the right place. The German’s resilience, toughness and overall stubbornness to gain the upper hand at everything put Rogers’ aspiring heroic deeds of the day to shame, while at the same time fascinating him:

“He’s not dying,” Rogers replies and carefully pulls off Zemo’s mask. His face is bruised, but only a trail of dried blood gives away a split lower lip that’s now fully healed; his eyes are shut, but when Rogers carefully parts his lids, Zemo’s eye is rolling, trying to look at Rogers with the characteristic haze of a semi-conscious (barely conscious) person.

Zemo grunts and snarls something, but his eye rolls back up and his body goes still.

“I… I’ll keep you updated, I need to take Helmut to a hospital…” Rogers excuses and is slightly startled when Zemo starts spasming again. Not waiting for Klaus to reply, Rogers hangs up the mobile, shoves it into a belt pouch again and hurriedly cradles Zemo on his arms, wanting to make the violent spasms stop and uttering apologies. He puts Zemo’s mask on again, feeling too coward to stare at the German’s bruised face, and is about to call S.H.I.E.L.D. for medical backup when Thor and Hawkeye come running into the hospital, followed by Iron Man hovering behind them.

“Nat has already called S.H.I.E.L.D.!” Hawkeye informs and tries to disguise his worry with a remark about the bloody mess Zemo did all over the place. Tony approaches Rogers and Zemo and runs a quick scan on the German, only to lift his faceplant and look seriously at Rogers:

“I… I don’t think you should be holding him, Steve… He’s got a few broken ribs and his left arm is kinda… broken to pieces…”

* * *

 

Pacing back and forth outside the surgery room, Rogers is stress incarnate. With nobody to watch him, he has dropped the cool demeanour and collected calm of Captain America the super-hero and leader into battle to be just Steve Rogers, stressed and scared for his friend undergoing surgery to fix the fractures.

Especially because Zemo has not been anaesthetised. The thought makes Rogers’ stomach twist and he feels nauseous: Zemo has an unbelievably high dose of different and powerful sedatives in his system – a normal man would have never stood a chance, but the German is simply semi-conscious; problem was… S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors had to inject him with yet another tranquiliser to cease the spasms, and they have no idea of how an anaesthetic, even if just local, would react with all those drugs and the super-soldier serum; so Rogers had decided _he did not want to find out_. For that, Zemo is having his bones fixed back into place with nothing other than his own semi-conscious state to numb the pain and keep him still, and Rogers feels a horrible person for having taken that decision.

He wasn’t able to save Zemo and now has doomed him to excruciating pain. Rogers expects that, at any moment, he’ll hear screaming and crying, and he’s not very sure about having the courage to stay around and listen.

But the surgery goes well, and sometime later the German is moved to an individual and secluded room to recover. Rogers goes with him and the doctors can’t convince him to leave Zemo alone to rest and sleep off the drugs in his system.

Baron Zemo is currently a pitiful sight: lying still and barely conscious on a hospital bed, with his mask rolled over his nose bridge to accommodate an oxygen mask and with the upper part of his suit unzipped to his waist and undressed, he has a large bandage over his ribcage and a hinged arm brace – simply for precaution, in case the spasms return, because in a matter of hours Zemo’s bones will be healed. The bruises are gone and all that’s left are slight scars and dried blood. The IV will remain until Zemo is fully conscious again and can drink and eat by himself.

Rogers feels exhausted, drained. A nurse gets him a chair that he places besides the bed. Sitting heavily with a defeated sigh, Rogers leaves Zemo’s holsters and sword on his lap and leans forwards, crosses his arms on the edge of the mattress of Zemo’s bed and rests his head on his arms. His fingers brush Zemo’s and Rogers would like to take off that pink mask of his and stir his hair, trace his features. For the sake of privacy, he won’t, and with another sigh he raises his head again to look at Zemo with the naïve and vain hope that he’ll wake up at any second.

However, Zemo is still and will remain so for a while. The rising and falling of his bandaged chest captures Rogers’ attention and he makes a mental note to ask for a damp towel to clean up the dried blood. Blushing a little despite the situation, Rogers looks away to his and Zemo’s fingers. He wants to hook his fingers around Zemo’s, hold him to make sure nobody is going to take him away again. Yet, the last thing Captain America and Baron Zemo need is to be caught holding hands, so Rogers forces himself to be content with just the brushing of fingers.

Zemo’s mobile rings, making Rogers groan. He just wanted to have five minutes of peace before venturing with Zemo’s mobile in German and trying to figure out how to call Klaus:

“He’s alright,” Rogers states the moment he answers the call. Klaus shouts something in German and many voices are heard talking excitedly in the background – Captain America suspects he’s on speaker and that _a lot_ of people are listening:

“Thank you for saving him, Captain Rogers!” Magda shouts from the background, the English hard to understand among so many people speaking in German. Rogers sighs and looks sadly at Zemo:

“I… I didn’t save him, he escaped captivity on his own…” Rogers confesses, and the sudden silence from the phone is terrifying, making Rogers feel small and ashamed of himself:

“Zemos are known for their stubbornness, Captain: if they don’t want to be somewhere, they won’t and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Klaus says after a few seconds of silence, and Rogers can image a fond smile on his skullish face. Yet, it still brings him no comfort. “I… _we_ are glad Helmut has someone to look after his sorry arse, though.”

That does bring a smile to Rogers’ face, but only for a moment. Because… does Zemo really need someone to take care of him? Does he need a team? Does he even need affection at all? And can Rogers provide whatever it is that he needs?

Captain America is not an insecure man and he doesn’t dwell on that kind of thoughts – unless someone close to him is involved, but still he doesn’t stay in that bubble for long. This time, however, Rogers is seriously concerned not just by the whole situation but also, he realises with dread, by how all of this is affecting him.

Maybe having a serious crush on Zemo and allowing himself to explore it is a bad idea, if he can’t keep his feelings in check and allows them to overcome logical reasoning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think of it? :3


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the support!! ;-;  
> It's so good to know you're enjoying the roller-coaster. >:3 I hope you're not tired of these two idiots just yet, because things are just starting!

Rogers hears something and wakes up with a startle. Zemo’s weapons, resting on his lap, fall to the floor with a clatter and Rogers, confused and still not very sure of what’s going on, looks worriedly at Zemo.

The German is still not fully conscious, but he’s moving his head a little from side to side, and the hand of his broken arm twitches slightly. He’s muttering something in a faint voice that Rogers can’t understand and his eyelids flicker. Zemo takes in a long, deep breath, and his chest rises slowly until the bandage wrapped around it to protect his ribs doesn’t let it expand anymore.

With a tired sigh, Rogers picks up the fallen weapons, rests them over his lap and crosses his arms over the mattress again, looking sadly at Zemo. The sun is rising outside, which means they have been in the hospital for four hours. Why hasn’t Zemo recovered yet? Why is it taking so long? Rogers brushes his fingers against Zemo’s twitching hand, absentmindedly, and when he notices their fingers are intertwined and Zemo is putting a bit too much strength into it – his arm is fully healed and maybe he’ll wake up soon.

Zemo keeps mumbling and grunting in dragged slurs. Forcing himself to listen closely, Rogers realises Zemo must be speaking in German, either complaining about something or calling for someone. The thought that Zemo might be having nightmares sends an unpleasant shiver down Rogers’ spine and makes him feel again that overwhelming need to embrace Zemo, comfort and protect him. Throwing caution to the wind and putting aside his doubts about carrying on his attempt at a romantic adventure with Zemo, Rogers covers Zemo’s hand with his free hand and leans closer to him:

“Helmut?” he calls softly. The German turns his head to Rogers, his eyes open for a second then close again. Zemo keeps babbling, takes another deep and slow breath and puts even more strength on his grip on Rogers’ fingers. “Helmut? It’s me, Steven… Can you hear me?”

But all Zemo does is grunting. Rogers leans closer, to the point that their foreheads almost touch, and he calls for the German again, tells him to wake up, threatens to let Hawkeye eat all the bretzels if Zemo doesn’t wake up right away.

Which the German doesn’t. Rogers sighs, tired, and watches in silence as Zemo’s body twitches, as he moves his head and opens and shuts his eyes, as he bends a leg but stretches it weakly again. Mumbling things, always mumbling things.

Until finally Rogers can understand one of the uttered words.

 _Vater_.

Helmut Zemo is calling for his father. Rogers feels an unbelievably powerful pang of jealousy, and can’t Heinrich Zemo just leave them alone?? Why is Helmut calling for his father, if it’s Rogers who’s there with him, holding his hand and waiting impatiently for him to wake up?

Suddenly, Zemo goes completely still. The soft rising and falling of his chest indicate he’s asleep again, having spent the little energy he had gathered. Rogers keeps holding his hand, but he’s silent, jealous and hurt, and looks away from Zemo to the window, to see the sky brighten and the night turn into day.

Upon hearing the door opening, Rogers startles again and immediately yanks his hands away from Zemo’s. The weapons on his lap fall to the floor and he looks confusedly at the door, to see Tony peeking in with a playful grin:

“Did I just scare you, big guy?” he teases and comes in, followed by the rest of the Avengers. Rogers simply blinks his eyes stupidly and looks outside. It’s day. He doesn’t remember watching how the night became day:

“How’s the sleeping ugly?” Hawkeye asks, bringing a pizza box, a bag of potato chips and a banana:

“Neither of you appear to be well…” Thor states sadly, bringing a bottle of water and a cup of coffee. The provisions are handed to Rogers, who’s still sleepy and confused to process the fact that he hasn’t eaten or drink anything for practically an entire day:

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is also holding Taskmaster and Crimson Widow,” Natasha informs, studying the semi-conscious German. “Taskmaster is still irresponsive and the doctors had to put an IV on him; Belova is miraculously alive.”

“And Helmut hasn’t woken up yet…” Rogers complains and with one mighty chug the water is gone. The Hulk shrugs and pats Rogers’ back amiably – and carefully:

“Sock-Face’s tough. Soon enough he’ll be back home complaining about everything,” he assures Rogers, who devours the banana in two bites:

“Yeah, he’ll be fine…” Tony nods and rests a hand on Rogers’ shoulder. “But you look almost as bad as he does, Steve… Come on, come home a little; Clint and Thor will stay here and after you get some sleep, I’ll bring you again.”

Captain America, however, shakes his head no. He puts the pizza box, potato chips bag and coffee cup on a small table next to Zemo’s bed, for later, and stretches a bit, fighting off a yawn:

“I need to stay here,” Even if Zemo keeps calling for his father. No, Rogers must stay. He must show the German he cares, that _he is there, unlike the previous Baron Zemo_.

The Avengers exchange looks, then Falcon decides it’s his turn to try:

“Please, Cap… we’re worried about you,” he says, honestly. Rogers glances over his shoulder to him. “And it’s not like Clint and Thor will take Zemo to a bowling game if he wakes up while you’re not here.”

“Yeah, we’d call you in immediately!” Then Clint throws his hands in the air and makes a disgusted face. “Just don’t get all sappy while I’m here, that one time in the jet’s infirmary was enough!”

“I need to stay here, guys! Besides, his cousin is going to call again!”

“I can talk to the Zeulnitz family!” Thor volunteers, all trauma about having his hair pulled by the toddlers forgotten. Rogers sinks on the chair, clenching his jaw bitterly: why is that everyone is wanting to take away his so hardly achieved spot by Zemo’s side – first Heinrich Zemo, now Thor and Clint??

He’s not thinking logically and his friends are right: he should get some rest. With a sigh, he shuts his eyes and rubs his face with his hands: he needs to get a grip on himself. Never, not even when Tony is injured, he gets affected like this.

But even before all the unrequited feelings, he already cared for Zemo. The German is his responsibility, it was Rogers’ idea to rehab him into goodness with the Avengers. And they wouldn’t be here, if only that hug in the park hadn’t happened… yet it did, and now Captain America must deal with the consequences:

“Guys, I want to be here when he wakes up, ok?” he sighs tiredly, unable to look his friends in the eye. He chooses to look at Zemo instead, feeling scared of the power the German has over him while at the same feeling again that now familiar overwhelming affection towards him. He wants to be there, he wants to be the first to talk to Zemo when he’s fully conscious again, wants to show him he cares despite the failed rescuing, wants to make sure everything is fine between them.

Though he’s pretty sure Zemo is going to be a bit upset when waking up in a hospital after having to save himself…

The Avengers exchange looks and nods, and the team leaves the room silently. Except for Iron Man, who remains in silence behind Rogers’ chair. Rogers knows he’s there, but keeps looking at Zemo:

“It’s my fault,” he confesses, making Tony frown in both confusion and concern:

“Why? Taskmaster and Crimson Widow disabled the security system with malware and kidnapped Zemo: this is not your fault, Steve!!”

“It is! I shouldn’t have hugged him in the park, in the first place!!” Rogers turns on his chair to face Tony, guilt written all over his face. “If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been kidnapped. I… I can’t have another Bucky in my life, Tony… I can’t keep losing my friends because I failed to protect and help them!”

Iron Man hums as a few pieces click together in his mind. So far, he has regarded Rogers’ increasing closeness to Zemo with concern and has found only two reasonable explanations for it: hypnosis or pretense on Zemo’s behalf, either of them part of some evil plan to bring doom to the Avengers and conquer the world or whatever is in Baron Zemo’s supper-villain agenda. Yet now that Rogers mentions Bucky, Tony sees something he hasn’t seen before – and maybe none of the other super-heroes did, too: Zemo is the only living link to Rogers’ past, the only one who understands his nostalgia about the old days and the ghosts of the war.

Tony can’t deny it fills him with jealousy because Rogers is his best friend; Tony is the one Rogers opens up with about his past, and Tony isn’t happy with the fact that he’s sharing that position with (and maybe losing it a little to) _Baron Zemo_ , of all people. But because Rogers is his best friend, he’ll make the effort to ignore it in favour of Rogers’ happiness.

So, if Captain America wants to stay in this uncomfortable chair with pizza and potato chips for company until Zemo wakes up, probably in a bad mood… so be it. Tony sighs and squeezes Rogers’ shoulders affectionately:

“Let us know if you need anything and when he wakes up, ok?”

Rogers simply smiles tiredly and nods, thankful for Tony’s understanding.

* * *

 

It’s around lunchtime when Zemo starts to mumble things again, but this time his eyes remain closed; he breathes more deeply and the hand of his broken arm twitches. Little later a nurse comes in with a device that looks like a tablet, but can perform x-ray scans, and she makes a quick scan on the German that reveals his arm and ribs are fully healed; since everything is in place and there are only faint scars on now perfectly solid bones, the hinged arm brace and bandages are removed. Rogers then takes the chance to ask the nurse for a wet towel to clean the dried blood on Zemo’s skin.

And Captain America is so focused on removing a particularly big spot of dried blood from Zemo’s chest, he nearly jumps out of his skin when Nick Fury clears his throat, having grown tired of waiting for Rogers to finally notice his presence:

“Captain Rogers,” the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. greets and Rogers jumps to his feet – dropping Zemo’s weapons again - squares his shoulders and salutes:

“Director Fury,” he acknowledges and hides the wet towel he’s holding behind his back, blushing in embarrassment.

_Why is there always someone watching when he touches Zemo????_

“It’s a first that a S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital hosts two criminals…” Fury makes a significant pause and looks at Zemo suspiciously. “… and a _rehabbing super-villain_ _that is not restrained._ ”

“Baron Zemo doesn’t need restraints.”

“The doctors said he could be… altered… upon regaining consciousness.”

“He won’t, I’ll be here,” Zemo is just going to be in a bad mood, but certainly nothing Rogers can’t deal with patience and care.

Fury narrows his eye: Captain America has very subtly refused an indirect yet very clear order to restrain Baron Zemo. Well, it’s not like Captain America has followed the usual rehabbing protocol since the beginning, right…? And surprisingly, it seems to be working – proof is the highest ranks of Hydra locked away in the Vaults and a list of successful missions involving the Avengers and Zemo. So, Rogers is either actually changing the German, or Zemo is up to something.

The director of S.H.I.E.L.D. nods and leaves the room: he’ll wait and see. It’s Captain America we’re talking about, and Captain America never fails.

* * *

 

Rogers has just spoken to Klaus on the mobile when Zemo opens his eyes suddenly. Holding a breath, Rogers watches expectantly as the German remains still for a moment, until he turns his head on the pillow to look around, from right to the left, where Rogers is sitting.

When Zemo’s eyes finally meet Rogers’ there’s a pause, before Zemo attempts to raise both hands to pull off the oxygen mask strapped to his face. But he’s weakened and moving the hand with the IV is uncomfortable – and Zemo changes his priorities: first, remove the IV… and then get rid of the oxygen mask.

Rogers can’t help a chuckle as the German clumsily tries to pull off the IV; but being the stubborn man he is, Zemo would succeed if only Rogers hadn’t moved to sit on the edge of the bed and held his hands:

“How do you feel?” Rogers asks softly, feeling as the weight of the world is lifted from his shoulders.

Zemo’s brain is still a bit foggy and confused to completely understand the situation. Also, English sounds like gibberish to him. One thing he knows, though: he’s in a hospital… and he hates hospitals. He wants to leave, now. But to do that he needs to get rid of the IV and of the oxygen mask, yet his hands are currently imprisoned by Rogers’. Lifting his head a little, Zemo sees his suit is unzipped to his waist, leaving him only in his pants and boots. This is a very undignified situation – his body is not for just everyone to see! - and he manages to pull a hand away from Rogers’ and clumsily gropes at his face. His mask is rolled up his nose bridge, but it still brings him more indignancy. _Who dared to expose Baron Zemo like this???_

Looking down at his body again, the German suddenly notices the highly suspicious cleanliness of his chest and abdomen compared to the feeling of dried blood and dirt on his back and on how disgusting his suit looks. With a frown, he spots a towel at the feet of the bed, darkened with dried blood… then he looks at Rogers, who’s been following the movements of Zemo’s head and smiles shyly, blushing again:

“I… I cleaned you up a bit…” Rogers explains.

So, Baron Zemo wasn’t just semi-naked in display: Captain America, with those grabby peasant hands of his… _helped himself_.

The outrage jars Zemo’s numb brain to normal activity, bringing in memories that explain his current disgraceful state.

Zemo’s fingers feel stiff and disobedient, but still he holds the oxygen mask and pulls it down:

“Mist…” (Crap…) Zemo growls in a hoarse voice, surprised he didn’t say something worst. He arranges his pink mask and tries to sit, but Rogers gently pushes him down by placing a hand on his naked chest:

“Easy, soldier… I’ll call a nurse to check you up, ok?” Rogers smiles and his hand lingers on Zemo’s chest. “Promise me you won’t pull out the IV…”

“Get your hands off me!” Zemo grunts and tries to sit again. The English sounds weird to him and heavily accented, like the many hours he spent trying to regain consciousness made him forget about the language.

Rogers frowns, but before he can do anything Zemo successfully sits on the bed, pushing him away a little in the process of lifting his torso. He also manages to yank his other hand from Rogers’ gentle grip:

“Helmut, don’t!” Rogers commands, grabbing Zemo’s wrists to stop him from removing the IV. Rogers is glad Zemo is recovering his energy, _but all of it so suddenly_? “You’ll hurt yourself!”

The German stops struggling and looks at Rogers sharply. His whole body is tense and ready to action, a shocking contrast to just moments ago. Besides faint scars, there’s nothing left to tell how badly injured Zemo was when Rogers found him.

But in addition of physical recovery, Zemo has regained full cognitive capacity:

“And you worry about it _now_?” he hisses, each word carrying an ungodly amount of poison that, to Rogers, feels like a punch on the face.

Rogers immediately pulls his hands away from Zemo, looking at him with wide eyes:

“I’m sorry!” he blurts out. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t-“

But Zemo is having none of that: he remembers very clearly how he was abandoned to his luck, remembers trying to sneak away by hypnotising Taskmaster but then having to fight for his life on his own, with tranquiliser darts raining on him, and then stealing the SUV that was meant to take him away and return to the Avengers Tower, the only relatively safe place his hazed mind could think of. Zemo remembers how he, barely conscious, drove for hours until he couldn’t stand all the drugs in his system anymore. Zemo remembers crashing the SUV against something that luckily was the Avengers Tower, remembers the excruciating pain in his ribcage and arm, that had already been broken during the fights and was broken once again, crushed between his torso and the steering wheel because the airbags weren’t designed to take the bulk and weight of a super-soldier; remembers making it to the lift with great effort, then to the hospital… and then everything is confusing, broken pieces that don’t fit together at all, voices and blurred faces and pain so strong the memory of it feels physical. Zemo had thought he had something similar to friends in Thor and Hawkeye, had thought he had backup in the Avengers… had thought Rogers liked him and cared for him. Zemo had thought he meant something, and therefore someone would come to help him.

At each enemy he had faced, he had thought help would finally come to him.

But nobody came. Zemo had to save his skin by his own, like always.

And now Captain America is trying to _excuse himself_?? No, Baron Zemo is done, his patience has reached its limit.

Zemo pulls out the IV from his hand, swings his legs out of the mattress and jumps to his feet.

With a yelp, super-villain Baron Zemo falls face-first on the floor when his treacherous knees buckle under his weight. He groans in pain and frustration, vaguely aware of Rogers crouching by his side and calling for a nurse. Trying to push himself up but failing, the German can only curse lowly as two nurses and three guards rush into the room.

* * *

 

“Doesn’t need restraining, hm?” Fury grunts, standing next to Rogers, who simply looks down at his boots.

Baron Zemo is now strapped to his hospital bed, yelling in German at the top of his lungs at the nurse tending to his injured hand from the carelessly removed IV – that was changed to his other hand.

“You can take him away tomorrow, Captain,” the other nurse says after running a scan on the extremely angry German. “Just to make sure his system is clean.”

“I liked him more when he was quiet…” Fury comments with a frown, then turns his back to leave the room, followed by the guards.

The nurses leave shortly after, but Zemo keeps ranting in German, trying to break free from the electrified steel straps on his legs, waist and chest but being careful about the IV and his injured hand.

Rogers looks at him, sadly: he had predicted that Zemo would be upset about the whole thing, and Rogers can’t blame him if he feels abandoned and betrayed… but he wasn’t expecting such an outburst nor the amount of hate directed at him.

He had honestly thought they were past that.

With a sigh, Captain America decides to try again and approaches the bed to sit next to Zemo. Yet the German ends his rant suddenly and turns his masked head at him:

“Leave me alone!” Zemo commands angrily:

“You know I wouldn’t do that, Helmut…” Rogers sighs tiredly, but doesn’t sit down:

“Liar! Spare me your little show! I was left all by myself and I made it through, I do not need your crocodile tears!”

A furious Baron Zemo is a highly destructible force, almost like a hurricane: taking down everything that stands in the way. By now Rogers should have already known it and that it would be impossible to talk to Zemo – but he still hoped everything would be much more… softer, with Zemo coming to his senses gradually and being a bit weak in the beginning and willing to let Rogers explain himself. With more handholding, too…

Even though Rogers understands why Zemo is being so hostile, a little bit of him feels hurt about Zemo’s reaction. Rogers still blames himself for what happened, but now that he’s being yelled at after worrying so much about Zemo and doing everything he could to help him, he starts to think that he doesn’t deserve this treatment.

Captain America bites his lower lip softly and looks around, feeling way too many things at once. It reminds him of when he woke up from being frozen in the ice and discovered everything he knew and loved was gone. It’s overwhelming and Rogers is starting to dislike just how easily Zemo causes these emotional turmoils. Zemo, who keeps snarling and fighting against his restraints; watching it, Rogers shakes his head in defeat and decides _they both need to cool down_ before any more talking.

If there will be a chance at more talking, because Rogers wouldn’t be surprised if Zemo broke free out of sheer fury and ran off somewhere…

He pulls Zemo’s mobile out from one of his belt pouches and leaves it over the mattress, within reach:

“Klaus knows what happened…” he informs in a tight voice. “I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up, Helmut.”

Zemo ignores it in favour of cursing Rogers and making threats. Defeated and hurt, Rogers leaves the room with his head low and heart heavy. He calls Iron Man, asking him to pick him up, and hopes he can get a hold on himself while he waits for his friend.

* * *

 

The ride back to the Avengers Tower is silent. Rogers’ face is impassive, showing only little signs of exhaustion. His eyes, however, are a different story, and Tony knows Rogers is feeling miserable.

Either Zemo was a nasty bastard like he always is (and seriously, how can someone so good and gentle like Rogers get along with nastiness incarnate?), or Rogers truly believes this is all his fault – which can be Zemo’s doing too, Tony realises with a sigh. Whatever happened, Tony is okay with leaving it between Rogers and Zemo as long as the German fixes the situation as soon as possible – if he doesn’t, Tony is definitely kicking him out.

At the Avengers Tower, Rogers is bombarded with questions about Zemo’s well-being, and he manages to smile tiredly and assure everyone Zemo is fine and that he’ll come back to the Avengers Tower the next day.

Then Rogers makes it to his bedroom, and after locking the door he leans against it and sighs tiredly. So much for another lunch and movie/TV series evening with Zemo… And is the German really coming back? What if the whole kidnapping thing has completely ruined the rehab, what if tomorrow Rogers goes back to the hospital to find an empty room?

What if Zemo _leaves him_? The fear that the man Rogers wants might reject him becomes much bigger than the failed rehab of a super-villain: Captain America always wears his heart on his sleeve, but this time things are much bigger and more personal – he hasn’t dared to look for somebody’s affection since… since Peggy, he has honestly thought he would never want to be involved with someone ever again because the loss hurt too much. And this «thing» with Zemo isn’t just challenging because of how much time he spent uninterested in relationships: it wrecks everything he was taught to be socially acceptable, it forces him to adapt to a modern concept he himself isn’t very sure he can understand… it defies him to give himself whole to someone who’s prone to ungratefulness, rudeness and bullying – all things Rogers loathes.

With a groan, Rogers hides his face on his hands as doubt gnaws at him.

* * *

 

Alone in his room and with nobody to yell at, all Zemo can do is struggle stubbornly against his restraints and curse. He’s already thinking about how to escape the hospital and go back to the good old days of planning the Avengers’ demise.

Especially Rogers’. Yes, Captain America shall pay dearly for this situation: _nobody toys with Baron Zemo_. Just thinking about Rogers, who fooled him so well into dropping his defenses and then left him to his luck, fuels Zemo’s wrath and he successfully cracks the restraints on his legs, insensitive to the electric shock he gets.

Then his mobile rings. It’s Klaus, an innocent victim for Zemo’s blind wrath. Without even thinking, Zemo answers the call:

“What do you want, I am busy!” he growls in German and doesn’t stop struggling against his restraints. There’s a moment of silence, then Klaus’ voice, soft and slightly amused:

“Ah, good to hear you, old fool! You say you’re busy, perhaps hearing how Captain Rogers was so desperately trying to rescue your sorry arse?”

“That is the vilest lie I have ever been told!!” Zemo yells, and at the other side of the phone call Klaus flinches and frowns. “Rogers told you how he was so worried and sorry, didn’t he? Well, it is a lie! The Avengers have unbelievably powerful technological resources, _I was abandoned to my luck_!!”

“Now you wait there a minute, Captain Rogers-“

“Captain Rogers is the biggest farce there is!! Under all that fake virtue hides the most hideous and sadistic creature I have ever met!!” Zemo’s voice is starting to get hoarse from the sudden exertion after such a long time without being used, but he just keeps going. “That bastard is the source of all my problems and disgraces!!” And Zemo enumerates the many wrongs Rogers has done to him over the years: causing the incident with Adhesive X and Heinrich Zemo, that deeply affected the former baron’s behaviour towards his wife and son; killing Heinrich Zemo, leaving an eighteen year-old Helmut Zemo alone in the world to deal with estate management, Hydra, the Nazi Party, a broken family and college, all in a country torn by the war; thwarting the success of Hydra and Zemo's personal gain; turning him against his father and taking him into this stupid rehab; making of him an enemy of Hydra and a target to be put down.

And breaking his heart. Baron Zemo had no idea a broken heart could be this painful, but he’s not willing to acknowledge his feelings towards Rogers have been hurt. This goes unsaid, yet Klaus knows his cousin all too well and sees clearly that Zemo feels abandoned and betrayed and, in an attempt at shielding himself from things he can’t deal with, didn’t give Rogers a chance to explain what happened.

Klaus is extremely patient with the younger members of the family, but his unlimited patience doesn’t extent to Helmut Zemo, who’s already old enough to know how to process his feelings and work with them. If he wants to pout like a child, that is none of Klaus’ business and he’s not willing to put up with his cousin. Only Klaus’ liking of Captain America stops him from immediately hanging the phone on Zemo’s yelling and complaining:

“Are you going to be butthurt for long?” Klaus asks dryly, surprising Zemo with the sudden interruption of his rant:

“I am rightfully offended!!”

“Stop being stupid, you spoiled brat! And to think I was about to get in a plane to go visit you! No, now I’ll stay home, I’ve better things to do than witnessing another of your tantrums!”

Zemo gasps, shocked, and can’t anyone understand his point??? _Which part of «abandoned to his luck» is everybody missing??_

“You don’t deserve the second chances you got, Helmut…” Klaus points in a tight voice. “You are insensitive and ungrateful, just like your father!”

“Do not talk about my father!!”

“I should have never gotten involved with you again… and Captain Rogers shouldn’t have tried to help you.”

Zemo chokes on his own words, so shocked and furious about what he’s hearing:

“I-I do not need you, or Rogers!!!” he shrieks, clenching his fist so tightly that it hurts him because of the IV.

With that, Klaus hangs up the phone. Zemo takes in a sharp breath, shocked and indignant and offended and _hurt_ , and looks at his mobile with wide eyes, expecting the mobile will answer for all the crap life has thrown at him lately. Yet the mobile does nothing and, with a snarl, he clasps his fingers around it with all his might.

It’s for situations like this that Baron Zemo’s mobile has an armoured case…

His own cousin has forsaken him! _His own blood!_ Zemo goes back to struggling: he’s going to break free, and he’s going to take over Hydra, and he’s going to destroy the Avengers, and he’s going to annihilate Captain America, and he’s going to disown his cousin and all his descendants, and he’s going to be powerful and rule over the world and his deceased father will be proud of him.

He shouldn’t have reconnected with his cousin, he shouldn’t have stopped his father from killing Rogers…

Change of plans: Baron Zemo is going to build another time machine and do things right from the start.

And for a while, Zemo is determined to go through with these news plans. He’s going to be so happy once he achieves his father’s goals, and it’s going to be so much fun to rule over the world without worrying about missing birthdays! And all that power is going to be for him alone because super-soldier Baron Zemo, the embodiment of peak human perfection, will not be content with an inferior partner. And even though he has already successfully replicated his father’s super-soldier serum, he’ll save it for serious business like creating an army. None of that nonsense of getting a perfect partner. He doesn’t need a partner, the lineage of Zemo will last forever with him, since the super-soldier serum has granted the longest of lifespans and that gives him more than enough time to actually invent something to achieve immortality.

Besides… he doesn’t need a partner (Baron Zemo is not needy, remember?)… and he doesn’t want his feelings to be played with again. It hurts too much.

No matter how nice it felt to have Rogers’ attention and care… or how wonderful Rogers’ arms felt around him… or how adorable Rogers looked with little Wilhelm in his arms…

Zemo gradually stops struggling as his wrath wears off. He feels tired and sore and he’s bruised from his fight with the restrains. The hospital room is silent and outside the day is turning into night again. He’s alone and he doesn’t like hospitals.

Hospitals are a dreadful place. And yet… Rogers stood by his side. And Klaus was about to come all the way from Germany to visit him…

Zemo groans and sinks in the bed, feeling miserable and empty. He remembers when he woke up, remembers Rogers there with him, looking worn and worried… and Rogers had Zemo’s mobile with him, he had been talking to Klaus, had letting him know how Zemo was doing…

If Rogers were a heartless, ill-intentioned bastard… he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of staying at the hospital and update Zemo’s family, would he? And he wouldn’t have cleaned up the dried blood on him, and now that Zemo thinks of it, if he still has his mask on… it’s because Rogers didn’t let some S.H.I.E.L.D. doctor expose his face.

Maybe Rogers didn’t deserve his wrath. Just like he hadn’t when Zemo and Stark had their petty show-off.

* * *

 

“Thank you for picking me up,” Zemo mumbles as he, Hawkeye and Thor leave the hospital under the suspicious watch of the guards at the main door. Natasha is waiting for them in her flying car, looking impassive as always:

“No problem, but please never call me again at freaking five in the morning…” Hawkeye yawns. “Why didn’t you call Cap?”

Zemo looks down at his weapons, that he’s carrying on his arms. Rogers was kind enough to walk around carrying his stuff just to return it to him…:

“Yesterday Steven looked exhausted, I thought he needed rest…” he replies, ashamed of his behaviour from the previous day. He needs to apologise to Rogers as soon as possible. And to his cousin too, though he’s sure Klaus won’t be taking calls from him for a long time and that he has removed Zemo from Skype and has probably signaled his email address as spam:

“He was, indeed!” Thor comments in his booming voice, nodding. “The Captain was very worried about you, Helmut. He insisted on looking for you restlessly, was the first to get to you and refused to leave your side.”

Baron Zemo feels despicable and says nothing. Hawkeye makes a joke about Rogers being an old sappy grandpa, though he’s deeply impressed by how much Rogers cares for a man who was a dangerous enemy not so long ago. All the Avengers were worried – some directly worried about Zemo’s well-being, others about Rogers’ concern about Zemo – but none of them would have willingly spent a night at the hospital just to watch over Zemo, though Clint and Thor would have if only they had been asked to.

In silence, Zemo follows Hawkeye and Thor to the car, greets Black Widow briefly and sits on the backseat next to Thor, while Hawkeye sits on the passenger’s seat.

The journey back to the Avengers Tower is quick and silent: Hawkeye and Thor fall asleep, Natasha is focused on piloting the flying car among all of New York City’s rooftops and Zemo is lost in thought about what happened since he was taken from the tower until yelling at Rogers in the hospital. And is Rogers going to forgive him? And would he understand why Zemo reacted the way he did?

And is Zemo ready to share that much? The German sighs and bites his lower lip, exasperated about finding himself again in a situation he can’t control nor predict the outcome, the nightmare of any strategist.

When they return to the Tower it’s little past seven in the morning. Nobody is in the living room, and while the three super-heroes return to their bedrooms to sleep again, Zemo hurriedly takes a shower, puts on clean clothes and goes to eat something light, mindful of the nurse telling him that no matter how hungry he is, he shouldn’t just shovel down food yet.

And finally, he’s standing in front of the door of Rogers’ bedroom. Zemo bites the inside of his cheek, gathering courage to apologise again to his greatest enemy/object of affection. This time, however, he doesn’t try to convince himself he’s doing this for politeness or for the sake of his plan.

Especially because he isn’t even sure he has a plan anymore…

All Baron Zemo knows is that he must apologise to Rogers.

With another sigh, he knocks on the door and waits. And waits. And waits. And he’s about to knock again when a very sleepy Captain America, wearing an old t-shirt and old sweatpants as a pyjama and with disheveled hair, having clearly just crawled out of bed, opens the door and stares at him in confusion.

Sleep leaves Rogers’ face as it hardens gradually:

“Did you run from the hospital?” Rogers asks dryly, wondering if Zemo can’t behave properly when nobody’s looking:

“I asked Barton and Thor to pick me up…” Zemo replies, no offense taken from Rogers’ supposition. “Can we talk?”

Rogers is tempted to refuse. He’s tired, having spent the night unable to sleep because his restless mind just kept thinking about Zemo and how much the German confused Rogers… and also about Bucky, lost because Rogers couldn’t save him, like he couldn’t save Zemo too. The hurt and confusion still haunt Rogers, and all he wants is to go back to bed and try to sleep, sort out his feelings. He could use some time to draw as well and relax…

Yet, Rogers sighs and steps aside, lets Zemo in his bedroom and closes the door behind the German, who removes the black balaclava from his face the moment he’s alone with Rogers:

“I am sorry about what I told you yesterday, Steven,” Zemo blurts out, crossing his hands behind his back and forcing himself to look Rogers in the eye. Baron Zemo is a man who learned to hate admitting his mistakes and that will dodge feelings and emotions as much as he can – unknowingly burying himself deeper and deeper in them. But he also has a strong (albeit twisted sometimes) sense of right and wrong, and talking to Rogers is the right thing to do. “What I said… you did not deserve it.”

They stand there looking at each other, the distance between them feeling awkward. They have been through this before and Rogers wonders how many more times they will do this… how long can he take it, the undeserved wrath and what it does to his self-esteem. He appreciates Zemo’s consideration on coming to apologise, but Rogers isn’t very sure about exploring and developing feelings for someone who would rather hurt him first than talking things through.

And Zemo, being good at reading people, sees it all in Rogers’ face: sees the doubt in his clenched jaw, the pain in his eyes, the lips pressed together while he thinks about anything polite to say. Zemo has stirred Rogers’ ghosts again, but has also crushed an illusion and opened his eyes to an ugly truth: Baron Zemo is much more difficult to handle than Rogers has previously thought, because he isn’t just impetuous and prone to mood swings – he’s also extremely _rancorous_.

Yet Zemo has true sparks of goodness in him, too. He moistens his lips and tells himself he’s simply being practical, he’s not being… _selfless_ :

“You cannot change me,” he states, even though Rogers has pretty much turned Zemo’s world upside-down and now the German has no idea of where he stands. He takes a moment to wonder if he did the same to Rogers, but shakes his head and proceeds. “And you deserve someone… better.”

No need to waste more time. Zemo hurriedly turns around and intends to leave. Baron Zemo has better things to do than staring longingly at Rogers and daydreaming about affection and similar silliness – like coming up with a new, infallible plan to give his life some direction. _By no means he’s afraid of staying and see Rogers agree with the fact that somewhere out there is someone better than Baron Zemo, the peak of human perfection_.

Captain America watches him stride to the door. And yes, he deserves someone who doesn’t yell at him for being kidnapped by a mercenary and an evil version of Black Widow, someone who isn’t resentful and doesn’t have such a short temper.

But that same nasty man has just tried to spare Rogers further incidents, because there are also good things in him. And Rogers has seen plenty of those, both in small and big gestures.

And that gives Rogers hope that Zemo is capable of romantically loving someone. Rogers knows Baron Heinrich Zemo was a monstrous man, violent towards his wife and son both physically and psychologically, but still demanding their unconditional love and loyalty; but Baron Helmut Zemo has admitted twice he hurt Rogers and now has tried to put an end to it.

Rogers smiles fondly when Zemo opens the door:

“You’re really dramatic, Helmut… Leaving like that…” he comments, and that makes Zemo glance over his shoulder with a confused look on his face. “I told you once that, when you like someone, you like them whole. Flaws included.”

Zemo simply blinks his eyes as his brain goes into temporary shut-down. He remembers Rogers saying that, even remembers it was _loving_ instead of _liking_. Rogers is telling him something, and it’s quite obvious, but Zemo is afraid of how _easy_ everything is. This is either a trap or Captain America likes to be yelled at:

“You cannot change me… _I_ do not change,” Zemo repeats again, slowly, still ready to leave the bedroom because at any moment Rogers is going to figure it out.

Yet Rogers just shrugs, smiling in that way that makes Zemo warm inside:

“You do change, Helmut. You standing here, telling me that… it’s a change,” Rogers states, and Zemo mouths a silent ‘oh!’ because there’s a bit of truth in Rogers words. “Besides… you owe me lunch.”

Zemo can’t tell whether Rogers is an idiot or truly has feelings for him. Maybe Rogers is both. Maybe Rogers isn’t an idiot and really sees potential in Zemo.

The German likes this last option very much and smiles widely, turning away from the door:

“And an evening of movies and TV series,” he adds, to which Rogers nods enthusiastically.

The next thing they know, they’re in each other’s arms in a tight embrace, Zemo uttering apologies for the things he told Rogers and Rogers muttering apologies for having failed to rescue Zemo. But it’s meaningless now, and Zemo has actually enjoyed showing off how powerful and resourceful he is, to the point of escaping Taskmaster and Hydra, and Rogers has found those skills rather appealing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please, let me know what you think! :)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much guys, for your continued support!! ;-;  
> Now look at this, almost 20 chapters and these two idiots are still tiptoeing around each other, how about making things more interesting? >:D

It’s June, few weeks after The Kidnapping, and Zemo’s family is still not talking to him; however, he doesn’t want Rogers’ help, preferring to deal with the consequences of his actions the most painful way. Also, Zemo needs to return to the S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital to (quite against his will) break Taskmaster’s hypnotic trance – the mercenary was growing too weak, sustained only by the IV therapy.

In this late Spring, the weather is a bit too warm for the Avengers’ and Zemo’s liking, with sunny day after sunny day that is spent indoors – when not in a mission.

Rogers likes to be in the living room, drawing as the other Avengers and Zemo have fun with the PlayStation, or cuddling with Zemo in the German’s bedroom, watching a movie in his laptop. This chaste affection between them is just fine, though sometimes Rogers wants to move a bit further, but not too much. This slow pace is perfect, giving them enough time to accommodate the concept that they’re attracted to each other, so anything either of them makes to add to the affection needs to be carefully calculated in order to not ruin the balance - so far, it works as smoothly as running an important military operation.

* * *

 

Things might be about to change as Captain Marvel stands in the conference room with invites for the annual city council’s gala, looking with a frown at Hawkeye, Thor and Zemo, much more interested in passing notes among them than in hearing what she has to say about the upcoming social event.

Joke’s on Zemo, because he wasn’t invited. Rolling her eyes at a particularly high-pitched giggle coming from Hawkeye, Captain Marvel distributes the invites:

“Why doesn’t Sock-Face get one?” the Hulk asks when the distribution is complete. Hawkeye looks sharply at Zemo, narrowing his eyes:

“Wasn’t enough to be born rich; you had to be born lucky, too?” he complains:

“I can give you my invite!” Falcon offers, because he hates going to galas: it’s boring and shallow and takes time from much needed studying for the approaching finals:

“Yeah, me too!!” the Hulk volunteers, because he too hates going to this kind of social event.

Baron Zemo just shakes his head slowly, politely declining the offers and thoroughly enjoying himself: he has plenty of experience in every kind of social event… and he too has better things to do with his time than attending to a gala: like finally trying to come up with a new and infallible plan about what to do with the Avengers and that doesn’t interfere with this very pleasant thing he’s got going on with Rogers:

“Only the _Avengers_ are invited,” Captain Marvel explains dryly. Rogers, sitting at the other end of the table next to Tony, isn’t pleased with the situation. This is the perfect opportunity to show the world everybody deserves a second chance and that even the mightiest of super-villains can change for good.

It’s also the time for Rogers to man up and ask Zemo out in an official date. It’s perfect: with more people around them, it will force Rogers to keep his grabby hands for himself and avoid a major screw-up.

Rogers clears his throat discreetly:

“We can take a person with us, Carol…” he points out calmly, though never, in the Avengers' history, has a team member gone with somebody who wasn't a fellow Avenger. Hoping nobody notices he’s blushing, Rogers looks at Zemo, at the opposite end of the table. “Would you like to come with me, Helmut?”

Zemo reddens under his mask and is speechless for a moment. Hawkeye bursts out laughing:

“Ha, seems you’re not so lucky anymore!” The archer raises his fists in the air, victoriously. “Democracy triumphs again!!”

“But he has not given an answer yet!” Thor exclaims, excited with the perspective of Zemo tagging along too. “Go with the Captain, Helmut! We shall hide in a corner together and comment on the other attendants’ attires!”

A chorus of «Go with Steve!» rises because some of the Avengers think Zemo was unfairly lucky at not being invited and Rogers and his attempt at making things even are karma.

But Baron Zemo is not surrendering to the pressure. He’ll go with Rogers _because he wants to go out with him_ :

“It would be a pleasure, Steven,” he replies politely, glad for the mask hiding his blushed cheeks and ridiculously big smile.

Rogers beams, smiling widely, and for a moment forgets about everyone else in the conference room and has eyes only for Zemo, feeling a million butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“But we don’t even know how he looks like!!” Carol shrieks in indignancy. “Steve, you can’t just show up in a party full of _important people_ with a masked terrorist!!”

“I know how he looks like!” Rogers replies with a frown, good mood immediately out of the window. He’s so done with his friends not wanting to see that Baron Zemo’s rehab into goodness is a success, _that he’s Rogers’ friend_ …

An argument rises between Rogers and Carol. Tony looks angrily at Zemo, blaming him for the yelling, but Zemo doesn’t care about Iron Man’s glower. Tilting his head, Zemo watches the argument for a moment, finding it impressive and touching how Rogers is always ready to defend him, especially about little trifles like… his face.

The concealment of his identity doesn’t really matter anymore, actually. Zemo is where he wants to be, among the super-heroes, and has already power over them. So, he can spare Rogers another argument, Zemo can remove his mask for him.

Besides… it’s going to be fun to see the surprised looks on everyone’s faces…

“Guys…?” Natasha calls quietly, watching as Zemo simply pulls off his pink mask and looks around at the super-heroes sitting at the table. Captain Marvel and Rogers turn their heads and see Zemo, unmasked, looking at them with an amused smirk.

The argument dies and the sudden silence in the conference room lasts for a while, until Zemo himself breaks it, playfully tilting his head from side to side:

“I am afraid I do not look like the dark side of the moon…” he mocks, raising an eyebrow at Hawkeye:

“You’re still atrocious to look at!” Hawkeye replies, wondering how Zemo got such deep scars on his face. The German ignores him in favour of baring his teeth at Captain Marvel:

“I hope your concerns about security have been… appeased,” he says in that velvety voice of his that means no good. Carol, however, is too taken aback by the sudden face reveal and makes no further comments.

Rogers has mixed feelings towards the whole situation: he was enjoying a lot to be the only one in the community of super-heroes to know how Zemo looks like, and the fact that now someone else knows leaves him a little hurt about losing exclusivity; on the other hand, he’s grateful that Zemo exposed himself to put an end to the argument and spare Rogers from it. It’s these little gestures that Captain America likes so much about Baron Zemo and reassure him day after day.

* * *

 

“He better not be going on a Hydra uniform…” Tony grumbles, sitting on the couch with his arms crossed in front of his chest like a pouted child, dressed in a dark red dinner jacket with black shoes. Natasha, standing nearby and fixing the mess that is the knot of Clint’s purple tie, chuckles dryly:

“Or a Nazi uniform…” she says, feeling somewhat wrong in her silvery ceremony dress.

Everyone in the tower is dying of curiosity to know what Zemo is going to wear because, a couple of days ago, a large package was delivered to him and F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s security scan accused nothing suspicious. Tony is sure it’s a Hydra uniform; Natasha thinks it’s something classier – definitely one of those black SS uniforms; Clint is convinced Zemo is going to wear his suit, and both Thor and Sam share his opinion; the Hulk, now Bruce Banner, still hopes that whatever the German wears might give him a chance to Smash. Only Rogers hasn’t shared his thoughts, but the other super-heroes are pretty sure Rogers already knows what Zemo is going to wear:

“Whatever it is, it’s going to have pink on it,” Falcon muses, sitting on the couch next to Tony and looking very proud of his black dinner jacket and red bow tie:

“Yeah, I wonder what’s up with him and pink…” Clint giggles, tries to help Natasha but gets his hands slapped away. Thor, sitting at the kitchen island with Bruce Banner, might have a logical explanation:

“It is certainly a tincture,” the Asgardian explains, like it’s an obvious thing. He’s wearing a grey dinner jacket and has his hair tied in a pony-tail. “It is what heraldic colours are called.”

“I still think he just doesn’t have a fashion sense…” Tony sighs and rolls his eyes, now hoping that Zemo won’t show up in… who knows, a medieval costume??

As if summoned by all the talking about him, Baron Zemo makes his way into the living room. Not wearing anything medieval or Hydra/Nazi related – just a black dinner jacket with a black tie and captoe Oxfords, nothing outstanding. Even the hairstyle remains the same. The only novelties are two rings on his right index finger: a large signet ring and a band ring with an amethyst gem.

Now only Rogers is missing. Zemo walks up to Thor to chat with him and Clint, finally free from Natasha’s fix-the-tie operation, trots to them to indignantly ask Zemo _where is the pink_. Clint and Banner are also wearing black dinner jackets and Thor looks ridiculously outstanding among them.

Then finally Captain America joins his friends in the living room, dashing in his U.S. army uniform and displaying a handful of polished medals on his chest.

The moment Zemo sees him feels like the world freezes for a moment, where there are just the two of them, and when Rogers smiles shyly at him, Zemo swears he can feel his pupils dilating slowly with a kind of wanting he had never felt before: Baron Zemo has wanted many things in life, namely success, power, admiration, adoration and respect from others… yet nothing so powerful like this, and definitely nothing that could give him emotional and physical comfort at the same time. The realisation is not as disconcerting as seeing Rogers’ sculpted body through a damp and transparent t-shirt – it’s actually… enlightening, completing the picture of a perfect physique with a majesty that has been hidden in plain sight and that must belong to Zemo.

What did Zemo think, days ago? That maybe out there could be someone better than him for Rogers? The German realises how stupid he was: how can possibly be there someone _other than him_ worthy of Captain America, perfection incarnate, the embodiment of everything Zemo was taught about male beauty and peak physical shape? What better match for a super-soldier than another super-soldier? What better company for a baron than a man with such a regal bearing?

Swallowing hard, Zemo keeps staring intensely at Rogers, who blushes, feeling with inappropriate satisfaction all the hunger and wanting and possessiveness Zemo looks at him with. It feels… _awfully good_ to be looked at like that by the man he wants for him, to be given a glimpse of how far everything can go… _how far Zemo is willing to go_.

“Finally, can we leave to the party??” Clint whines, breaking the moment. “I’m starving!!”

* * *

 

The night begins exactly like Zemo predicted: the moment the Avengers and he arrive, all eyes turn to him, all reporters want to talk to him, every important man in the gala wants to look him in the eye – Nick Fury among them. Being an experienced man in this kind of thing, Zemo quickly dismisses every bit of unwanted attention with the objective of enjoying the night with Rogers by his side.

Sadly, Baron Zemo has misjudged the people attending to the gala – and turns out these reporters are extremely insistent, and Nick Fury is constantly materialising next to Zemo to stare at him menacingly, and in the meantime Rogers has been taken to socialize with a group of veterans and high ranking army officers. To brighten things, some paper-pusher friends with the mayor has introduced his daughter to Zemo… and the young woman is horribly clingy, clutching to Zemo’s arm with viciousness and giggling like a fool, calling him «Count Zemo» and insisting on introducing him to all her equally clingy friends.

This is not going according to Zemo’s plans, and taking the chance of yet another appearance of Nick Fury, Zemo makes a great strategical retreat by asking him to entertain the young women – basically shoving the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. into the group of giggling women and striding away into the crowd, without looking back, until he spots a quiet table in a corner, where Clint, Thor and Banner are herding bottles of champagne and stashing their pockets with appetisers. Since Rogers is nowhere to be seen and the annoyingly clingy woman might get rid of Nick Fury soon, Zemo takes refuge with his favourite Avengers:

“Help me, please,” he grunts, hiding between Thor and Hawkeye. “I have no idea where Steven went to and there is this woman who keeps calling me _count_ and clutching to my arm and-“ Zemo narrows his eyes in exasperation when the group bursts out laughing of his misfortune:

“Count Zemo and Baron Dracula!!!” Clint cackles, bent over his stomach. Banner looks around, biting his lower lip in an attempt at controlling himself:

“Are you running from the lady in the yellow dress, Zemo?” he asks. “She looks like she’s searching for someone!”

“Yes, yes I am running from that lady!! Now help me, _please!!!_ ” Zemo urges them, and now that Hawkeye is still bent over his stomach, laughing, he needs to hide behind Thor, who’s as amused as Banner:

“But Helmut, being a count is better than being a baron! She must find your accent very appealing! Or your scars!” the Asgardian teases, and Zemo throws his arms in the air, defeated: the first time in his whole life that Baron Zemo has friends… and they are useless! For a moment, an unwanted memory of his childhood pops up in his mind, of little Helmut Zemo being excited about going to school and making friends, but having his enthusiasm cut short by Heinrich Zemo, telling him that he was going to school to be the best and not to make friends.

Clint’s hand on his shoulder startles him, and he looks at the archer’s grinning face, confused:

“Come on, Count Zemo: we’ll escort you to safety.”

Across the wide hall where the gala is taking place, for the first time in his life, Captain America is bored in the company of veterans and officers, people he’s always so fond of and has in high esteem. He’s smiling at the men and women gathered around him, nodding in acknowledgement of their words, but his eyes can’t stop scanning the crowd in search for a tall blond man with broad shoulders and a scarred face.

This is definitely not the night Rogers had envisioned… He had imagined that he would be with Zemo the whole time, maybe their hands would brush together a bit as they walked side by side, and they would chat, share some appetisers, enjoy the background music, show the world Captain America has once again defeated evil and saved an innocent soul… yet especially be together, basking in each other’s company and attention but in a different place from the Avengers Tower, maybe even flirt a little – the way Zemo looked at Rogers has boosted his confidence about being bolder with his advances. On their way to the gala, Rogers had spent the whole time thinking about how nice it would be to have Zemo admiring him on his uniform, looking at him intently with those beautiful violet eyes…

“Captain Rogers, I can’t find Baron Zemo…” Fury states dryly behind Rogers, making him glance over his shoulder, surprised, his eyebrows shooting up to his airline. Tony stands next to Fury, with a glass of wine in a hand and a canapé in the other:

“And the daughter of a friend of the mayor, who happens to be an acquaintance of mine, is also looking for him…” Tony tells, looking around suspiciously.

Rogers feels cold fingers clasp his heart: what if Hydra infiltrated the gala and kidnapped Zemo again?? _And what is this about someone’s daughter and Zemo?????_ He must have made a face, because Tony smiles at him, reassuringly, stating that maybe Germans are simply rude and don’t know how to behave in galas, no matter their social status.

Still, Rogers excuses himself immediately from the army people and starts looking for Zemo, regretting deeply not having done this earlier. Fine, he shouldn’t even have let them get separated in the first place…

Fury, Rogers and Tony eventually find Sam, who joins the search-party eagerly to escape an awkward conversation with a professor he was not expecting to see here. Sam has helpful information: he last sighted Zemo talking to Thor, Clint and Banner near one of the cocktail tables, the lonely one in the corner, but he has no idea of where they are now.

Ant-Man is among the crowd as well, talking enthusiastically about his newest weapon (that now works perfectly), but he has no idea of where the missing Avengers and rehabbing super-villain might be. However Black Widow, that they come across with shortly after, has the answer for their missing persons problem:

“They’re on the roof.”

* * *

 

The night is warm and the sky is clear, from the roof the view of the city night lights is wonderful and all the street noise is muffled.

Thor, Hawkeye and Banner are done with the whole formal mood of the gala: they have removed their jackets and left them on the parapet, and have rolled up their sleeves; they talk animatedly, devouring appetisers and drinking from champagne bottles – Thor has already had too much champagne and his hair is loose again. Only Zemo remains composed and sober, though he too chats and laughs and gesticulates with enthusiasm.

Fury grunts something about sneaky Nazis and goes back inside, Tony complains about Thor and champagne, Sam happily joins the small professor-free party and Rogers sighs in both relief and disappointment: Zemo is safe – good; Zemo is enjoying company that isn’t Rogers’ – not so good.

With his hands behind his back, Rogers approaches Zemo:

“You went missing, I was worried…” Captain America declares, stopping next to him. Thor, standing nearby, slaps Zemo’s back loudly:

“Helmut was in danger, but he has good friends to help him!” the Asgardian announces, confusing and worrying Rogers again, then he stumbles over to Tony, who has also approached the group and is confiscating champagne bottles.

Captain America looks with wide eyes at Zemo, but he’s positive he didn’t miss a fight or a Hydra/mercenary invasion of the party. The German shrugs, looking at the city below them with fake interest:

“There was this very insistent woman who would not leave me alone… I was forced to retreat,” Zemo explains briefly, making Rogers laugh full-heartedly.

Yet his laughter is short-lived, and Rogers sighs disappointedly as Zemo keeps looking away from him. Rogers wants to apologise for the failed date, but he’s at a loss of what to say: this time it was just a clingy lady after Zemo, but what if it had been another mercenary? What if Rogers had failed Zemo again? Since words are taking longer than expected, Rogers looks down and discreetly brushes his fingers against Zemo’s, muttering a humble «Sorry…», almost imperceptible with the loud bickering in the background coming from Tony, Clint, Thor, Banner and Sam.

The German hears it, though, and he too brushes his fingers against Rogers’. He’s a bit hurt about being abandoned again, but he understands why Captain America couldn’t make him company for the night. Now looking at the dispute for the champagne bottles, Zemo nudges Rogers, who looks up to see how Zemo’s lower lip protrudes in a sulky pout:

“Well, I take it is now my turn to ask you out,” Finally, Zemo looks at Rogers, and even though he sounds serious and still looks upset, there’s a shadow of a smile playing on his lips. “Would you like to go ride on horseback with me? A proper date, with nobody else involved…”

Rogers’ heart leaps in his chest and he feels weightless. He nods enthusiastically, the perspective of being alone with Zemo outside the tower not so spooky anymore now that he clearly has permission to go further. Zemo smiles at him, then dramatically looks away from Rogers again – but it’s too late, Captain America has spotted his huge grin and the red on his cheeks:

“You should put me on a leash, Steven…” the German states in fake aggrievement, teasing, and can’t resist glancing at Rogers over his shoulder.

Rogers blushes heavily, embarrassed for a moment by the image that comes to life in his mind. But then he offers Zemo one of his best dizzying smiles, because Zemo _is allowing him to see it._

They might not have spent the night together, but it still feels like they made progress.

But the Gods of Dating seem to be against them: the next morning, when they are about to leave to the barn, F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces Dracula has successfully raided a S.H.I.E.L.D. base in Europe and stolen important tech and intelligence.

* * *

 

In the jet, the Avengers go through a series of recordings from the attacked base with the testimonies of the surviving agents, telling how everything began and ended so fast, happening in the blink of an eye. It’s disturbing, and the super-heroes don’t like fighting vampires.

“ ‘Denn die Todten reiten Schnell’,” Zemo quotes, holding to the back of Thor’s seat for balance, drumming his fingers on the surface he’s using to steady himself – he’s upset, in a bad mood, the world has no right to ruin his perfect date. “It is from Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’, when the carriage of the Count arrives to pick up Harker. _For the dead travel fast_ , was how it was poorly translated. Has any of you ever read it?” The question is made with a hint of arrogance, suggesting that Zemo is pretty sure none of the Avengers have read the book he’s talking about:

“Someone is feeling cheerful, today…” Tony sighs sarcastically and looks at Rogers with a frown, expecting him to magically fix Zemo’s mood because right now nobody wants to deal with whatever caprice Zemo is throwing at the team.

Yet Rogers feels sad about the postponed date and simply stares down at his hands, dooming the Avengers to put up with Zemo’s «cheerfulness». He too agrees it’s not the best topic to talk about before a fight against Dracula… but he enjoys learning these tidbits of culture from Zemo.

“Well, the fun part is that Stoker took this line from a Gothic German ballad, ‘Lenore’… that I suppose none of you has read, either…” Zemo proceeds in the same slightly arrogant tone:

“We’re not interested in a literature class!” the Hulk complains. “Especially about _vampires_!”

“Oh, but Hulk, ‘Lenore’ is not about vampires! It is about Death!” Zemo chuckles mischievously, taking comfort in the petty satisfaction of killing two birds with one stone: ruin everybody’s mood and poke around the Avengers’ discomfort about the upcoming mission. Like he’s talking to an eager audience, Zemo goes on about Gothic literature and pre-war German horror movies, much to the super-heroes’ dismay.

Finally, when Zemo is monologuing about macabre German folk-tales, Black Widow lands the jet at the gates of Dracula’s castle.

The door of the jet opens and the Avengers rush outside, as fighting vampires suddenly sounds much better than listening to Zemo. Captain America and Baron Zemo exit the jet last, but before they make it outside, Rogers grabs Zemo’s arm gently, making him stop and turn his masked head to look at him:

“We’ll have plenty of time when this is over,” he promises to cheer them both a little, squeezing Zemo’s arm affectionately. It seems to work and the German tilts his head slightly, tension leaving him gradually, and reaches out to thumb Rogers’ cheek.

“Are you two done talking about vampires??” Tony shouts from outside. “We’ve got a bunch of them to fight!”

* * *

 

Vampires are definitely less annoying in literature, Zemo concludes, wielding his sword in a hand and a pistol in the other. It’s his first time fighting against the creatures, and oh, Baron Zemo doesn’t want to repeat this anytime soon… The vampires keep swarming towards him, vanishing into thin air in a place and materialising again somewhere else, evading his attacks and forcing him to be constantly defending. He has spent more time shaking vampires off his back and worrying about his neck than in fighting _properly_.

Zemo, Thor, Hawkeye and Sam are fighting in a circular room with high vaulted ceilings; ahead of them there’s a large corridor leading to the upper floors, from where the vampires keep coming; behind them is a narrow passageway that leads to a large hall where the rest of the Avengers are fighting; at their left there’s a closed door that has intrigued Zemo the moment he stepped in that room.

The fighting is taking a toll on the old castle, and sometimes Zemo catches glimpses of the increasing cracks on the walls at each vampire thrown against them or at each energy blast or arrow or lightning that misses the intended target and hits the wall instead. Talking about arrows, Hawkeye is running short on those…

“Regroup!” Rogers’ order comes from Zemo’s earpiece at the same time lightning roars in the circular room and strikes two vampires crawling down the wall.

There is a rumble, then a large crack snaking all the way up the wall that divides the circular room from the large hall. The group in the room hurries towards the passageway, but it’s too late: large blocks of stone and debris collapse, blocking the passage and smashing some vampires in the process, shrouding the group in dust.

Zemo coughs and looks sharply at Thor:

“You need to stop breaking down buildings!” he tells the Norse god, who smiles apologetically:

“At least you are not buried under all that debris…!”

Yes, good thing is that none of them is hurt and communications with the hall still work; bad thing is that the vampires keep coming at them…

Baron Zemo feels trapped, a situation he must fix immediately. Since Iron Man isn’t here to nag and contradict him, Zemo immediately assumes the commanding position of the small group and analyses the situation quickly: he cannot afford to order Hawkeye and Falcon to keep the vampires at bay while he and Thor remove the debris to clear the passageway and he fears the entire ceiling will collapse on them sooner or later – they need to get out of that room.

The closed door. Having grown up in a castle, Zemo is sure the door must lead to a secondary chamber, which means a temporary redoubt. He shoots at a vampire, then at the rusty latch of the door that breaks with a loud clank. Zemo runs to the door and yanks it open, and with the light in the room he can see a spiral staircase going down:

“Steven, we are going down! I believe I found a way to the crypts, and down there must be a passage to the outside!” he informs, then looks over his shoulder and calls the others to retreat:

“That could be a trap! Hold your position, the Hulk is removing the debris!” Rogers replies from the earpiece. Falcon, Hawkeye and Thor run towards the new passageway and Zemo grabs a fallen floor chandelier made of wrought iron:

“Negative, you have plenty of vampires to deal with as well, use the Hulk. We will join you soon,” And Zemo retreats after his group of super-heroes, closing the door and blocking it from the inside with the floor chandelier – not that will be of much use if the vampires decide to teleport, but the German can only hope they won’t.

 From that moment on, his earpiece gives only static due to the thickness of the walls.

The staircase is in complete darkness. Falcon, equipped with a night-vision device, leads the way downstairs. Hawkeye, having run out of arrows and with nothing handy to use as a weapon, follows Falcon feeling rather useless; Thor is after him, looking everywhere and trying to see through the shadows; Baron Zemo is the last, constantly glancing over his shoulder, uselessly, as he can’t see in the dark.

Fortunately, the vampires don’t come after them. Still, they hurry all the way down the staircase, until they reach a vast hall littered with skeletons in cobweb cocoons, with dark stone walls and narrow windows near the ceiling. There are no floors below and no doors, and Zemo is sure they have finally reached the ground-floor of the castle:

“We can escape through those windows!” Thor exclaims, pointing at one of the narrow openings: nothing his hammer can’t widen:

“Yeah, but I could use more arrows..." Hawkeye complains, pointing at the now useless bow folded between his empty quiver and back.

Zemo walks among the skeletons, curious, and crouches near one that catches his attention:

“Barton, can you work with a crossbow?” the German asks, releasing a crossbow from the bony hands that clutch to it. He also removes the belt from the skeleton, because there’s a hook on the end of a strap on the belt that is needed to engage the bowstring. Zemo stands up and walks over to Hawkeye with the crossbow and the belt. “Wilson and Thor, gather as many bolts as you can.”

“Isn’t that… going to disintegrate when I touch it…?” And Hawkeye makes a face, looking at the medieval crossbow with suspicion. To dismiss his concerns, Zemo puts on the belt, readies the crossbow with expert ease and fires against a wall.

The crossbow holds together and shoots the bolt, that gets stuck in a small breach between the stonework:

“The ancestor of firearms!” Zemo explains, looking at the crossbow with pride. He has always liked medieval weaponry and hadn’t had the chance to hold an authentic piece for a long time. “Look how the bow is mounted on this structure that is held like the stock of a gun, and you notice that the recoil is similar to-“

“Ok, Baron Smart: teach me how to use it…” Hawkeye groans: he appreciates that Zemo is helping him, but he’s not in the mood for a history lesson. Beaming pride for finally having a chance to ally his commanding skills to his weaponry expertise, Zemo explains Hawkeye how to operate the crossbow, then dismisses him to catch more bolts and goes back to the skeletons, coming up with a brilliant idea: Thor and the Hulk don’t need to worry about the vampires, as the first is invulnerable for being a god and the second can restore himself due to the gamma radiation in his system; Iron Man wears armour and Falcon’s neck is protected by his visor – that leaves Rogers, Black Widow, Hawkeye and Zemo vulnerable, but the German has just found the solution.

Chain coifs, all of them with a triangular ventail. They are rusty and dusty, but when Zemo removes them from the skulls they feel solid enough. Shaking off dust and cobwebs, the German jumps to his feet, holding out four chain coifs and visibly pleased with himself:

“Put this on,” he tells Hawkeye and throws one of the coifs at him. The archer, not expecting the weight of it, catches it with a hand and nearly drops it again, cursing:

“What the heck is this?? I’ll get rust all over my hair!!!”

“Put it on!” Zemo insists as he himself covers his head with a coif. The mail protects his neck and shoulders, and when he pulls the ventail in the correct position and buckles it in place, the lower half of his face is protected too.

Now they just need to leave through a window and reunite with the others.

* * *

 

Rogers’ group manages to fend off the vampires, but they are exhausted and take the chance to catch their breath, instead of venturing further into Dracula’s castle. Captain America tries to contact Zemo again, but there is only static.

He’s not extremely worried: Thor, Hawkeye and Falcon are with Zemo to help him, and even if they weren’t, Zemo had already shown he’s more than capable of standing his ground. Rogers is still a bit concerned, though, and being able to talk to the German would be much better than being completely clueless of his whereabouts and situation.

After a moment, Iron Man decides it’s time for them to proceed, so the Avengers venture upstairs, finding more vampires along the way. But after three large flights of stairs, they reach what should have once been the throne’s room of the castle: Dracula is there with more vampires, and so are the stolen items from S.H.I.E.L.D..

More fighting ensues, and for some worrying minutes it looks like the vampires will outnumber the super-heroes and defeat them.

That is when lightning shatters one of the full-length windows, sending stained glass everywhere, and Falcon flies in, holding Hawkeye by the back of his belt while he shoots his newest weapon:

“Behold, I return more fashionable than ever!!” the archer announces cheerfully, shooting his crossbow at a vampire. He hits the target, Falcon drops him and he lands graciously, arranging the coif on his head. “I’ve got a wig!”

Thor follows, getting in through the window, holding Zemo by an arm and dropping him near Rogers. The German lands with a heavy thud, shooting at an advancing vampire, and throws one of the coifs to Rogers:

“Put that on. And I need you to cover Barton while he reloads,” he commands before running towards Black Widow to give her the remaining piece of mail. The fight continues, now with less worrying about getting a bite on the neck, consequently with more freedom to attack. Rogers follows Zemo’s instructions and Hawkeye complains loudly and endlessly about how hard it is to reload the crossbow.

Dracula eventually retreats with his minions, unable to defeat his enemies and having to leave all the loot behind. With threats and curses, the vampires leave, and the super-heroes and Zemo stand victorious in the throne room, exhausted but unharmed.

Still with his shield on his arm, Rogers fumbles with the coif – that thing was easier to put on than it is to remove, and it needs to go as soon as possible because the scent of old metal, rust and dust are becoming quite bothersome. He sees Zemo walk up to him, still wearing his own coif: Baron Zemo is no knight in shiny armour, but his rusty mail coif is enough to sweep Rogers off his feet:

“Where did you get these?” Rogers asks curiously as Zemo unbuckles the ventail, uncovering the lower half of Rogers’ face, then pulling off the coif. Zemo does it slowly, occasionally brushing his gloved fingers on Rogers’ skin, teasing, leading Rogers to assume the German is in a good mood again. Which is wonderful, and Rogers smiles shyly, momently forgotten about the other Avengers and savouring the intimacy of the moment.

There is rust and dust and a few cobwebs on Rogers’ blond hair and face, but before Zemo can gently shake it off, Natasha comes running, afflicted with the same problem as Rogers and ruining the moment:

“Please tell me you didn’t take this from dead men…” she mutters in resignation as Zemo helps her to remove the coif. To her dismay, the German tilts his head to the side – he definitely took it from dead men. “Disgusting… but useful.”

“I’m gonna keep this wig, I feel cool in it!” Hawkeye announces, hairflipping the mail dramatically.

All in all, Zemo’s tactic was a striking success and the German beams with pride and satisfaction at the approving looks he gets from the Avengers – especially at the way Rogers looks at him fondly, and wanting, and marveled at how much Zemo has to give when it comes to leadership and zealousness for those under his command.

Only Iron Man isn’t happy about the situation, and he walks up to Zemo with large strides and jams an armoured index finger on his chest:

“Cap told you to hold your position and you ignored him!” The faceplate lifts, showing a grimacing Tony Stark. “We’ve already told you that you don’t do the commanding around here! What if someone had been hurt because of you?”

“Tony, it’s ok…” Rogers says placatingly, resting a hand on Tony’s shoulder and giving Zemo a significant look, a speechless command to not fan the flames.

Baron Zemo, however, is too pleased with the outcome of the situation to waste his time bickering. He simply makes an imperious gesture with his head, humming in amusement as Iron Man’s weakest point is finally exposed for all to see: even though he’s the leader of the Avengers, he lacks more than half the military expertise required for the position… and Zemo can see he’s afraid that Rogers, the much more competent second-in-command, will favour Zemo’s judgment instead.

A new, brilliant and _infallible_ plan begins construction in Zemo’s mind as Thor, Hawkeye, Falcon and even Black Widow and the Hulk defend his actions and praise his quick thinking and resourcefulness, leaving Iron Man speechless for a moment, looking at Captain America for support but getting only an apologetic shrug as Rogers stands with Zemo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always treasured!  
> Also, if you're wondering what a mail coif with a ventail is: https://static.webshopapp.com/shops/032318/files/121053359/600x600x2/ulfberth-camail-a-ventail-triangulaire-anneaux-ron.jpg


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the feedback! ;-; It means the world to me!  
> I was feeling lucky the other day and decided to try and doodle my version of AA Zemo's unmasked face - you can check the result here (https://drive.google.com/file/d/15ZriMAvw9k0LNjSHDW3FyUNw9J-5-jHr/view) - anatomy and shading are not my friends. :')
> 
> (also, for Intensified Feels please check Cosmo_is_Beink_Melon's series "I Don't Know How My Heart Deceives Me" (that I would totally link you to if I only I knew how informatics work :'3 ))

The peaceful silence in the field is broken by hoofbeats as Rogers and Zemo canter on the dirt road. The dawn is pleasantly fresh, but the warm pink in the horizon brings the promise of a warm day – perfect for a picnic by the lake. They ride in companionable silence, wearing their usual suits, Rogers on Snowball and Zemo on the Knabstrupper stallion, and they admire each other through frequent quick glances.

Today is the day they are finally going to have a proper time together: no Avengers (not that Tony was pleased about Rogers going to spend a day out with Zemo), no director of S.H.I.E.L.D., no veterans, no clingy women and no vampires. Just Rogers and Zemo, and they both are feeling bold and adventurous from the top of their big and fast horses, determined to go a little bit further in this thing going on between them.

When Zemo is sure his stallion won’t pull a prank on him, he holds the reins with just one hand and stretches his other hand to Rogers, who smiles widely, mimics Zemo’s stance and holds his hand. It feels good to ride hand in hand, the kind of thing Zemo and Rogers had always thought would be nice and romantic to do with someone special.

They reach the lake shortly after sunrise, when the sunrays have finally overcome the mountains ahead of them and flood the fields with golden light, waking up flowers and birds and butterflies and bees. Mist raises from the water and it all feels like a dream, one that Rogers doesn’t want to wake up from.

The lake is very large, stretching towards the forest at their left, and from where they stand they can’t see the other side of it. The lakeside is mostly rocky, of dark and large pebbles, but Rogers and Zemo dismount from their horses where there is still grass and tie the horses’ lead ropes to a nearby fallen and moss-covered trunk of a pine tree.

Rogers decides to make the first move, and when his horse is secured he walks up to Zemo, who’s staring in silent awe at the landscape, and gently removes his mask, being greeted by a smiling scarred face.

Still in silence, they walk to a large stone protruding from the grass, close to the pebbles, and sit side by side, arms and legs touching:

“Makes me think of home,” Zemo shares after a while, looking ahead to the lake. The lifting mist isn’t very thick, allowing to see through it, to have a glimpse of the mountains in the distance. “There is an artificial lake in the garden, with a weeping willow by the waterside. In the Summer, it was my mother’s favourite reading spot…” Smiling sadly, Zemo remembers his mother sitting on a towel on the grass, with her back supported against the tree, reading peacefully but at the same keeping an eye on him while he played next to her. That, of course, when Heinrich Zemo wasn’t around to steal kisses and tickle her and overall be an affectionate nuisance to his wife – and son, because by no means would Helmut Zemo play by his own when his father was nearby.

But all of this was long ago, before the war. Before Captain America destroyed the Zemo family.

Baron Zemo shakes his head and looks down at his boots, frowning slightly: how ironic that _Rogers,_ in spite of all the trouble he caused, is the only person who feels right to fix what has been broken – Rogers himself seems to be committed to it, and by each passing day Zemo has less and less doubts about how fitting for each other they may be.

Besides, Zemo already has a new, infallible plan to accomplish his father’s goals and even _do better than him_ , no matter who he chooses to stand by his side. Heinrich Zemo would certainly be proud of his son’s brilliancy, and that’s the matter.

“Helmut?” Rogers calls softly, looking with concern at the sudden thoughtful expression that crosses Zemo’s face. Yet the German smiles at him, dismissive, and jumps to his feet:

“Well, now I shall impress you with my stone skimming skills!” Zemo announces cheerfully, making Rogers laugh in delight. But they didn’t come here to throw stones to the lake: they came here to enjoy each other’s company away from prying eyes and inconvenient team mates. So, before Zemo can find a suitable stone to throw, Rogers stands up as well and pulls Zemo by the arm back to the grass.

The German looks inquiringly at him, raising an eyebrow as Rogers pulls him and then laughing when Rogers tackles him down to the ground and they fall. Zemo finds himself sandwiched between the soft grass and Captain America’s massive body – and well, nevermind the stone skimming, Zemo has other skills he can use to impress Rogers.

Like tilting his head to the side, exposing his jaw and neck. He looks attentively at Rogers, at how he moistens his lips a bit and shifts slightly to lie immediately next to Zemo instead of on top of him:

“You look nice,” Rogers blurts out, going alarmingly red and looking everywhere but Zemo. It’s something that annoys Rogers when he tries to draw the German – he can’t quite _capture_ him, not with the same ease he does with the Avengers and most things he draws.

Zemo enjoys being complimented, and wishes he could come up with something to tell Rogers – but everything he thinks of seems childish or not good enough, even in German. So, turning on his side a little, Zemo shows his appreciation by removing a glove and cupping Rogers’ face with his bare hand, thumbing at his cheek softly. With a satisfied sigh, Rogers smiles and closes his eyes.

For a long time, they simply lie together on the grass, under the sun, dozing off a few times, enjoying the feeling of being in each other’s arms. In the Avengers Tower, they don’t have the chance nor the gut to take a nap together: cuddling during a movie is one thing, but spending more than three hours in a bedroom, all by themselves, would raise suspicion – and the last thing they want is the Avengers bursting through the door to rescue Rogers from evil Baron Zemo and his hypnosis skills...

The horses are quiet, seemingly understanding the two super-soldiers don’t want to be disturbed, and only birds chirp occasionally.

Zemo is more prone to longer and deeper naps than Rogers, and he clutches to the other man’s body with more strength, both possessively and needing. Captain America, when not sleeping, likes to watch Zemo and trace the scars on his face with a finger. The scars are deep and textured, alluring, and Rogers allows himself to imagine one day he’ll have permission to kiss them, lick them – and all of Zemo’s body.

Thankfully, Zemo is asleep when Rogers’ blood makes a daring rush south, and when the German wakes up again, some time later, Captain America has somewhat recomposed and found another interesting – and more innocent – thing to entertain himself with: Zemo’s impeccable undercut.

The German hums in satisfaction, enjoying the feeling of Rogers’ fingers running through his hair combing blond strands, and neatly trimmed nails scratching softly at shaved scalp.

Everything is so peaceful that Baron Zemo decides this is the perfect opportunity to tell Rogers about his brilliant and infallible plan – telling _almost everything of the plan_ is also part of it:

“Steven, I have been thinking a lot, lately,” he begins, looking Rogers in the eye.

The hand on his hair grows still and returns to lie between their bodies as Captain America looks with surprise at Zemo. Is the German going to declare to him _now_?? Shouldn’t they go out on a few more dates because… because Rogers always thought it took at least five dates until a declaration of love was socially acceptable? _Love_!!! And is this really love or are they just needy and kinky and confusing everything? Should Rogers get Zemo a gift, and what kind of gift can a man give another man? And _oh god, what are the Avengers going to say about this?????_ And the media, how are they going to hide from the med-

“I have a plan for Hydra!” Zemo proceeds enthusiastically, oblivious to the sudden panic Rogers experienced – and to his equally sudden disappointment. “I will take over it, reform it, use its resources to fight crime and make the world a safer place… but I will need your help, and perhaps Thor’s and Barton’s too…” the German adds innocently, but the wicked glint of his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

Zemo’s new and infallible plan is a perfection of his prior plan of taking over Hydra under the pretense of turning it into another gang of super-heroes. This time, however, there are additions and a much better strategy: with Rogers’, Thor’s and Barton’s aid, Zemo will easily defeat anyone who stands up to him and will become the supreme leader of Hydra; then he will make Rogers his general, and Thor and Hawkeye shall be commanders, and with the super-soldier serum that Heinrich Zemo created and Helmut successfully replicated he will rise an army of elite super-soldiers and make them the new defenders of the world; with that, super-heroes like the Avengers won’t be needed any longer, and will be forgotten as the masses turn their liking to Zemo’s new Hydra. The Avengers will be the first to be disbanded and fall: Rogers will certainly appreciate to have full power and lead a proper army; Thor, being a god, the prince of Asgard, will also enjoy to have power, to lead men into battle instead of being a mere pawn; and Hawkeye, being a former criminal and now a foot soldier under the command of Iron Man, will absolutely appreciate his new position, his new importance – and so, with such an opportunity at greatness at Hydra, why return to the Avengers? The super-heroes will be defeated and Zemo will be triumphant without even needing to fight them.

Besides, Zemo is positive Rogers will want to follow him to Hydra to be his general… and _more_.

“Hydra has valuable technological resources that will do better under our command than… in the hands of some criminal bold enough to try their luck,” the German reasons. “Aliens, terrorists, mutants, Inhumans, magical creatures, gods… one day the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. will not be enough to protect the world, Steven…”

Rogers admits Zemo has valid points, but the glint on his violet eyes has left him wary. Captain America has learned to trust his gut, and right now his instinct tells him there is more to it than what Baron Zemo is telling him. Rogers doesn’t want to believe Zemo might have some ill-intent, and the only way to find that out is through thoroughly analysing that «brilliant plan» of his.

And Rogers, being a master strategist, goes straight to the key-points:

“Why my help, and Thor’s and Hawkeye’s?” he asks with a slight frown. “You were sure that you’d capture the Red Skull without our aid, what changed your mind?”

Zemo shrugs, like the answer is obvious:

“You, Thor and Barton are my friends. Especially you, Steven. I could do it alone, of course I could…” Baron Zemo could totally take over Hydra on his own, just to make it clear. “… but I too know the importance of team work, and I was hoping to build the perfect team once Hydra is under our control.”

“And why should it be _you_  being the supreme leader of Hydra instead of S.H.I.E.L.D.? They have plenty of agents to-“

“Because it is my birth right,” Zemo snarls, and why is Rogers making all these questions? He should be thrilled about Zemo wanting to make his own contribution to the world of super-heroes and good deeds! The German closes his eyes for a moment and pinches his nose bridge, exhaling. He can’t get angry, can’t raise his voice… he can’t push Rogers away. Zemo doesn’t want to have another argument with him. Doing his best to remain calm, Zemo looks at Rogers again. “My father founded it. The least I can do to still honour his memory is to command it, even if it is for different purposes than what was originally intended.”

Sounds like a perfectly innocent explanation, but Captain America can’t ignore this unpleasant gut feeling – nor the fact that Zemo still wants to _honour_ _Heinrich Zemo_. Yet Zemo is right: there are too many threats in the world and, sooner or later, the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. won’t be enough to protect those in need; and Hydra is extremely resourceful, too much to be abandoned to its luck. It’s just that… that glint in Zemo’s eyes and the feeling that something is not that right… that this is not that simple… and if the previous Baron Zemo is still involved…

Could Zemo be planning to split the Avengers, masking it as a need for help from Rogers, Thor and Hawkeye? Would Zemo manipulate them, use them for his own purposes to achieve power and then… who knows, hypnotise them into fighting against their friends, fighting for the ideals of Hydra?

Would Zemo do this to Rogers? Is everything that happened and is happening between them meaningless, a farce, a means to an end?

Rogers sits up, abruptly, brows knitted together in a tense line. Zemo understands immediately something he said disturbed Rogers, and he too sits up and rests a friendly hand on Rogers’ shoulder:

“Steven, let us talk about something else. You seem disturbed, and I apologise for that,” he says softly, meaning every word he says. His plan has been explained, now he just needs that Rogers considers it and approves it. But that has time, and Zemo wants to make the best of their day off. Smiling, Zemo starts to play with Rogers’ blond hair, expecting him to relax again. “Tell me about you, Steven. I want to know you better.”

Yet Rogers simply looks at him with discomfort, lips pressed tightly and not leaning in to the touch, and that makes Zemo raise an eyebrow and withdraw his hand:

“Steven? What is it?” he asks again. Rogers looks him in the eye and Zemo has the unpleasant feeling that those blue eyes are staring rather coldly at him:

“You’re hiding something. You’re not telling me everything about your plan,” Rogers states in a calm yet hard tone, the same tone he would use when discussing an important military operation.

Like a trapped wolf whose only chance at escaping is charging towards the hunters aiming at it, so feels Zemo. Rogers has figured out he’s not playing all his cards, but again, Rogers might be humble… but he’s far from stupid and by now Zemo should have known better than try to deceive him.

There are too many contradictory emotions storming inside Zemo, and it’s overwhelming and for a moment he’s speechless, trying to process every bit of inner information in order to respond correctly to the situation. He’s bound to fail, though: he’s suddenly scared that he gave his true intentions away; he’s furious for having been so obvious; he’s wrathful about Rogers understanding he wasn’t telling everything; he’s hurt that it's so easy for Rogers to suspect him; he’s ashamed for not telling everything to the man he wants to be fully trusted and accepted by; he’s disgusted by how eagerly he would manipulate for his own gain the man he has feelings for and the people he considers friends. Too many things at once, and for a matter of self-preservation, Zemo decides to react to what stings him the most:

“You do not trust me!” he accuses aggressively, making Rogers sigh in exasperation:

“Helmut, I’m not-“

“I am trying to do good the best way I can… and instead of supporting me, you accuse me of treason!”

“I didn’t accuse you of anything!”

“You have just said I am not telling you everything! Why shouldn’t I, if I need your help?”

In that moment, Baron Zemo loathes himself for how easily he’s lying to someone he likes and cares for – and it’s not an innocent lie.

Rogers does the worst possible thing and allows the argument to escalate, torn between believing he’s actually hurting Zemo and dismissing it because this is just another one of Zemo’s mind games:

“If you have nothing to hide, then why are you so upset?” he asks, full of suspicion. Zemo, apoplectic with rage and absolutely terrified of how contradictory he’s being, jumps to his feet. Rogers does the same and they stand in front of each other, radiating tension:

“Because I am trusting you and you clearly are not trusting me!” the German growls, narrowing his eyes menacingly, but Rogers isn’t intimidated:

“I simply asked because I think your plan is suspicious!”

“Do you really think that I would tell you, if I meant harm?? And give you a chance to ruin my _evil_ plan??” By now Zemo is shouting, anger thickening his accent and nearly making him bite his own tongue. It’s a good thing he didn’t, or he might have died of poisoning.

Zemo feels awfully toxic, blatantly lying like that, like he doesn’t deserve Rogers' accusation. Because he does, because he is hiding information, because he is not revealing his ultimate goal that is the destruction of the Avengers.

But it’s so easy how Rogers becomes suspicious… and it _hurts so much_ …

They stare at each other intently for the worst reason - trying to catch little movements that give out the beginning of an attack.

Rogers is the first to relax a bit and, understanding there will be no physical attack, Zemo turns his back at Rogers and storms off towards the lake, fists clenched in a mixture of rage and terror.

This is not how one loves somebody, and it pains Zemo that he knows it but still does it the wrong way… just like his father.

* * *

 

The good thing about the enclosed training area is that it’s strongly reinforced, built to sustain the Hulk’s enthusiasm, Thor’s hammer and Hawkeye’s most destructive arrows. The three of them are enjoying a training session together, experimenting a combined attack on a Hulk-sized robot, when a sword comes rotating vertically through the air and lodges between the robot’s eyes, immediately ceasing the fun.

Hawkeye groans and turns around to see a masked Baron Zemo striding towards them:

“I thought you’d be gone for the whole day!” the archer complains. “Why can’t we get rid of you??”

“Perhaps because I have deemed you a fine company,” Zemo grunts, pulls the sword from the robot’s head and looks around. “No more robots? Shall we try a combination of robots and lasers? Or-“

“Hey, Baron Party Pooper… calm down. Who let you have coffee?” Hawkeye sighs in fake annoyance, realising something is wrong.

Zemo should be riding on horseback with Captain America. _They were impossibly enthusiastic about it._  So, why is he here?? Lunch time was barely two hours ago, weren’t they supposed to be gone for the whole day and have a picnic and do what sappy old men do?

Thor notices something is wrong too, but he’s more sensible for this kind of thing than Hawkeye is:

“Is everything alright, my friend?” he asks quietly.

Zemo almost barks that yes, he’s absolutely fine. But he doesn’t, instead thinks for a while: he could make an experiment, he could comment what happened and then see who would take his side. Just to assure himself he wasn’t too obvious when talking to Rogers… try to get some sympathy to ease the nauseating feeling of knowing that he shouldn’t accuse Rogers of not trusting him when he himself isn’t trusting Rogers with the entire truth.

Sheathing his sword, Zemo begins to pace back and forth in front of the three Avengers:

“So, I was having a most enjoyable time with Steven-“ Zemo begins, causing Hawkeye to throw his arms in the air:

“I don’t want to know you guys were hugging, just get to the facts!!” he complains. Watching Rogers and Zemo hugging on the news was enough of an eyesore for him, he doesn’t want to know just how clingy Captain America and Baron Zemo are when left alone:

“Well, it is a _fact_ that we were having a pleasant time!” The German stops and narrows his eyes at Hawkeye. “Then I thought I should share something that had been in my mind for a while… and after I did, I realised Steven does not trust me!”

“Of course he does, Sock-Face! More than any of us!” the Hulk exclaims, scratching his head. “Why’d you say that??” Thor and Hawkeye nod in agreement to the Hulk’s words.

Baron Zemo clenches his jaw: _why is it so hard to gain someone’s sympathy????_ Sighing in annoyance, Zemo tells Thor, Hawkeye and the Hulk exactly what he told Rogers, watching as they frown or widen their eyes or exchange looks. When he’s done with explaining his glorious plan, he shrugs:

“How is this suspicious?” he asks indignantly.

There is a moment of silence, the three Avengers exchange another look, then Thor steps forward and rests a friendly hand on Zemo’s shoulder:

“Helmut… the fact that you wish to return to Hydra and honour your father’s memory is alarming…” the Asgardian explains softly. Zemo gasps, furious:

“ _Even you, Odinson????_ ” And again, Zemo feels despicable by how easily he plays victim. Hawkeye waves an arrow at him, menacingly:

“I’ll glue you if you don’t behave, I swear!” he threatens. “Of course you sound suspicious, Zemo: your father was a founding member of Hydra and now you want to go back to it!”

“But are you all deaf??? Which part of «re-purposing Hydra and its’ resources» did you miss??” The German clutches to his masked head, feeling a headache coming.

“You’ve been with us for just nearly a year, do you really think your past would be forgotten just like that?” Hawkeye asks with uncharacteristic seriousness. “Do you really think trust is that easy to gain? No, Zemo: you still have a lot to prove!”

Coming from a former criminal, these are words to be considered. Zemo crosses his arms, half-sulking/half-considering what he’s being told:

“And you’re lucky, ‘cause Cap trusts you a lot,” the Hulk states. “Trust is tricky business. Hulk doesn’t even trust himself sometimes…”

“But I thought-“ Zemo is growing tired of this; seems his «friends» don’t trust him either but are trying to explain him why… and he wants to understand it, he wants to listen and learn and better himself; yet at the same time it just hurts him more to know he has been a fool to lower his defenses and allow these people in his life, allow them to affect him.

And he’s still lying, still hiding his real intentions, still not trusting Captain America and his… friends.

“We trust you, you are a friend!” Thor assures him with a kind smile and rests a hand on his shoulder again. “And I, for myself, do not doubt you have noble intentions about Hydra… but Helmut, you need to understand it sounds suspicious because of who you are.”

Because he’s Baron Zemo, son of Heinrich Zemo, one of the founding members of Hydra and top Nazi scientist, enemy of Captain America and all Rogers stands for, and Helmut Zemo has called that legacy upon himself. In the eyes of the world, he will never be more than a sneaky enemy, a doubtful ally and puppet master.

Maybe he won’t even be more than… an acquaintance… to Rogers.

Zemo sighs in defeat, all anger lifting slowly like fog, baring the hurt and guilt beneath it. His shoulders slump and he feels suddenly worn, all need to burn off pent-up energy gone. Thor squeezes his shoulder amiably:

“I am sure that Steve did not mean to offend you…” He smiles. “You two should talk and-“

With another sigh, Zemo steps away from Thor and shakes his head slowly:

“I am tired of talking, Thor. I have been doing my best,” And it hurts, and Baron Zemo doesn’t want more of it, and so he will make the most reasonable thing, that is to hide in his room and wait for the hurting to stop.

* * *

 

Having first taken refuge in the quietude of his bedroom to clear his mind, now Rogers is heading to Tony’s favourite workshop, where F.R.I.D.A.Y. said he could find him making yet another improvement on his armour.

Rogers’ mind is not clear, much on the contrary. Captain America never doubts his gut feeling… except that Baron Zemo has this way of completely disturbing his system, and now Rogers is at a loss of what to do. One thing he’s sure, though – he has once again antagonized the German and ruined their day off…

Rogers expected to find Tony focused on his work, but when he reaches the workshop his friend is already waiting for him, with his arms crossed in front of his chest and frowning in a way that translates as «I told you so!»:

“You don’t look like you had a nice ride on horseback… and picnic…” There’s definitely an accusation here, because Rogers is to blame for putting so much trust and faith in someone undeserving:

“My fault…” Rogers mutters. Looking back, it was actually his fault. Zemo had tried to change topics, he was genuinely in a good mood, and Rogers should have made the effort to push his discomfort about the plan to the back of his mind and enjoy the day. They could have argued about the plan some other time, it wasn't like Zemo was already packed up and ready to go.

He sheepishly tells Tony that Zemo has this idea of taking over Hydra with Rogers’, Thor’s and Clint’s help and re-purpose it to help the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D.; when he’s over, he looks down at his boots waiting for Tony to ramble about how Baron Zemo is irremediable and needs to be locked away in the Vaults immediately.

Rogers does not want to see Zemo in the Vaults. His friends cannot know he has feelings for the German, or that will be the end of it.

“Well, I've been telling you that Zemo is no good! But it takes a lot of cheek to openly tell _an Avenger_ about going back to Hydra!” Stretching his arm, Tony is ready to assemble his armour. “Let’s get him before he does anything worse than-“

“No!!” Rogers’ voice is so strong and commanding it startles Iron Man. Captain America hurriedly clears his throat. “No…” he repeats, softer this time. “Helmut is right when he says that Hydra is too resourceful to be abandoned to its luck and that one day the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. won’t be enough…”

“Uh, I see…” Tony narrows his eyes and scratches his beard. “Steve… would you mind siting on that chair?” He points at a ball chair near one of the workbenches, a new addition to the workshop. Rogers had never seen that chair before, and even though he frowns, he does as Tony asks him.

The inside of the chair is littered with tiny blue LED lights that spark to life the moment Rogers sits – or so he thinks those are lights. Tony momently turns his attention to one of the many screens around the workshop, always scratching his beard, until he looks over his shoulder to Rogers, disappointed:

“You’re not hypnotised…!” he announces, and that makes Rogers groan in frustration. He immediately stands up from the chair – device, invention, whatever – and starts to pace around the workshop:

“Why should I be??”

“You’ve just agreed that Zemo’s right about Hydra!!”

“And he is!! _Strategically speaking!_ Just think about it for a second, Tony! He’s right, but… I don’t know, there was something in his eyes that I…” Rogers stops and sighs. “Maybe I’m being paranoid…”

“No, you’re being reasonable. Which is pleasantly surprising, because you’re awfully friendly to Zemo…” Tony frowns and shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “But… yeah, Hydra can’t just be left… dying. Or some day it’ll return from the dead stronger and meaner, like a freaking zombie.”

“What do we do, then?”

This time, Tony simply shrugs:

“We’ve got a lot in our hands and I think S.H.I.E.L.D. should deal with it. But you brought Zemo in, you’re friends with him… that’s your call. If you want to help him, then we’ll be here waiting to go rescue you when his plan turns out to be a bad thing.”

“Thank you, that was very helpful and comforting…” Rogers grunts bitterly, clenching his fists in frustration. This was everything but the reassurance he needed – besides, Rogers is enjoying less and less to let Tony know when things sour between him and Zemo.

Now there is only one thing left for Rogers to do: wait for Zemo to cool down and apologise for his hasty reaction.

Not that Zemo, locked in his bedroom, will cool down any time soon… There are too many feelings, too many confusing emotions, and the more Zemo racks himself with all this, the more lost he feels: because he has feelings for Rogers, strong and good feelings he wants to explore and develop into something concrete; because Rogers’ disapproval hurts way too much; because he actually likes Thor and Hawkeye (and the Hulk and Falcon aren’t really that bad); because he hates the other super-heroes and wants to destroy them; because he wants to do better than his father but still wants to keep his memory alive; because he wants to be best for Rogers… yet wants to be someone his father would be proud of.

And Heinrich Zemo would not be proud of his son becoming a super-hero and taking Captain America as his partner… while Rogers would not want as partner someone who isn’t «good» in the way super-heroes are.

With a groan, Zemo curls on the bed and hides his head under a pillow, like it can shield him against the things inside his head that just won’t stop tormenting him. What a big mess he got himself into!

If only he could trust Rogers the whole plan… if only Rogers cared more for him that for the Avengers…

To add to his misery, Zemo’s family is still not speaking to him. That doesn’t stop him, however, from picking up his mobile after spending nearly ten minutes hidden under the pillow and call his cousin. Klaus doesn’t answer and Zemo’s call ends in the voicemail; still Baron Zemo, ever the stubborn, complains about what happened to him, about having this brilliant plan, then explaining the plan, and having everybody not trusting him.

He doesn’t tell his cousin his true intentions either, and after ending the call all Zemo can do is hide his face again under a pillow.

And remains so for… he loses track of time, with his face hidden and mind restless, curled on the bed and wishing he had never gotten himself into this «rehab» in the first place, wishing he was stronger than these stupid feelings for _his greatest enemy -_ unbelievable, a Zemo grievously wounded by a mere heartache... that only increases as he thinks everything over and over again, chewing on feelings and emotions and calculating probabilities and results.

Baron Zemo comes to the conclusion that, unlike science… feelings don’t have a predictable, controllable outcome. He  _hates_ feelings,  _hates_ he couldn't be stronger than them.

* * *

 

Zemo only leaves his bedroom when his stomach is being so loud he can’t hear his own thoughts. He plans to grab something to eat and retreat into his den again… but Rogers is also eating in the kitchen and looks sharply at Zemo the moment the German leaves the corridor.

Their eyes lock for a solid minute, an awkward silence between them, and for a moment Zemo wonders if he’s really that hungry. In response, his stomach grunts lowly, the emptiness of it growing from mildly annoying to uncomfortable. Admitting defeat to the inconveniences of basic human necessities, Zemo makes a beeline for the fridge to get a medium-sized bucket of Quark cheese, then gets a spoon from a cabinet drawer and grudgingly sits on the kitchen island across Rogers.

No talking, just eating.

And that is the strange sight Black Widow walks to when, minutes later, arriving to the kitchen to get herself a snack: Rogers looking sadly at his pile of pancakes and Zemo politely devouring an entire bucket of cream cheese. It has been a day since the failed horse riding excursion of Captain America and Baron Zemo, and in the meantime Zemo’s «glorious plan» is already known by all the Avengers, who are once again divided between thinking the plan is merely suspicious but Zemo means no harm and being sure that Zemo is up to something.

In the behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D., Black Widow has all the interest that Zemo goes ahead with his plan, so that after he does all the hard work of fighting, S.H.I.E.L.D. can walk in and seize all the intelligence and technological resources – and Zemo won’t be able to complain about it, or he’ll sound even more suspicious than what he already does.

Yet as a friend of Captain America, Natasha knows an improbable friendship blossomed between Rogers and Zemo… and even though she doesn’t quite agree with it, she doesn’t like to see them sulking like this. So, being the super-discreet ,super-smooth, super-spy she is, she walks up to the fridge to pick up a bottle of liquid yoghurt:

“So… you’re going to talk it out or do I need to get you guys a get-along shirt?” she asks calmly and walks back into the corridor.

Zemo nearly chokes on a spoonful of Quark and looks sharply at the retreating Black Widow:

“How about minding your business??” he barks, voice full of aggrievance, but Natasha ignores him and leaves, shaking the bottle of yoghurt absentmindedly.

“She would need a Hulk-sized shirt to fit us both inside…” Rogers muses quietly, smiling a little. Zemo turns his head at him, frowning:

“I refuse to share a shirt with you,” he grunts, killing Rogers’ little smile immediately. Captain America pokes his pancakes with the fork, not really interested in eating them:

“Can we talk about it, Helmut?” he asks, then looks up from the pancakes to Zemo, who immediately looks away from him to give all his attention to the bucket of Quark he’s so thoroughly devouring. “I… I thought about it,” Zemo looks at him, pretending to be disinterested, and Rogers puts down the fork and crosses his arms over the table. “I’m sorry, ok? For screwing up again, and for making you feel like I don’t trust you.”

Zemo shrugs and takes another spoonful of Quark.

Steve Rogers is starting to be jealous of the freaking bucket of cheese that’s getting all of Zemo’s attention:

“So… besides… I also thought that… you’re right. About Hydra. It can’t be left like it stands, now…” Rogers proceeds, and that makes Zemo look at him again and arch an eyebrow. “If… if you want to follow your plan, then do it.”

A moment of silence follows, until Zemo finally puts his bucket of Quark aside and also crosses his arms over the table:

“I take it you will not come with me. Nor will Hawkeye and Thor,” he states, all the confusing and contradictory feelings he had numbed with time going fully conscious again. One stands stronger than all the others, though.

 _Disappointment_. Rogers doesn’t want to go with Zemo, doesn’t want to be by his side:

“Not yet,” Rogers replies carefully, taking a deep breath. Baron Zemo has left Captain America between the hammer and the anvil: if Rogers had chosen to go with Zemo, the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. would feel betrayed in the least, and probably quite angry – even more than when Rogers brought Zemo to the Avengers Tower; but by choosing to stay behind, Rogers has kept his friends and allies by his side, has made the _majority_ happy. He’s terrified of what the minority has to say, even because said minority’s approval is as important as the majority’s.

Disappointment is immediately crushed by pain. A massive, brutal, overwhelming pain of loss, all too similar to when Zemo was told his father had died. Yet just like back then, now Baron Zemo manages to get a grip on himself and merely hums, faking understanding, and stands up slowly:

“Very well. I shall go on my own then,” No Rogers… no friends… nobody. Like always. It’s always just him.

Rogers goes to stand in front of Zemo, trying to see his eyes and figure out what is going through the German’s head. He was honestly expecting Zemo to try to persuade him to tag along or ultimately giving up going after Hydra on his own… and the fact that Zemo has done none is concerning. Yet Zemo’s violet eyes are constantly looking away from Rogers, his jaw remains firmly clenched and he seems very determined to walk past Rogers and to the trash bin to discard the now empty bucket of Quark:

“Helmut… what are you doing to that poor spoon?” Rogers asks softly with a little smile, trying to ease the mood between them, and finally Zemo looks at him, confused, then to the spoon he’s holding.

The spoon is crumpled, and Zemo hums again:

“Well… I can always blame the Hulk…” Rogers chuckles at the statement, but it’s forced. He rests both hands on Zemo’s shoulders, but the German still doesn’t look at him:

“Are we good, Helmut?” he asks in such a serious tone that finally makes Zemo look at him. And no, they are not good. Rogers sees it in Zemo’s eyes, by how pained and hard and accusingly those violet orbs stare at him, by the slight frown of those thin angled eyebrows. Captain America doesn’t want this, he’s tired of giving one step forwards and two steps back. He could argue he’s tired of not knowing how to deal with Zemo and his moods, but this one is entirely his fault.

Or so he thinks, oblivious at how Zemo also blames himself for where they stand now – even though that Rogers clearly stating he wants nothing with the German is entirely Rogers’ fault, and looking at things this way, Zemo made the right choice by not telling Rogers his true intentions or, perhaps, Captain America would have arrested him.

His musings cease as Rogers pulls him into an embrace at the same time that Hawkeye steps out of the lift and shrieks in agony at yet more sappiness.

* * *

 

A week is all it takes for Zemo to prepare for his expedition – he gathers as much intel as he can, locked for hours straight in one of the Tower’s labs analysing hacked information and maps; when the Avengers are not in the gym, he trains endurance and aim; and in the little free time he has, he reads to keep himself from thinking about all the feelings and emotions he’s so stubbornly trying to sweep under the carpet.

 _Captain America has not been helpful_ _with that:_  he usually sneaks up on Zemo when he’s in the lab, bringing him snacks and asking if he needs anything and touching his shoulders and arms and asking to have sword-fighting practice; when Zemo is trying to read in his bedroom, Rogers is constantly knocking at the door, inviting him to come play in the PlayStation, or to go out for a walk, or to let Rogers in so that while he reads Rogers can draw him. Yet Zemo has hastily rebuilt is walls again, and even though these are made of clay and the architecture is very basic and clumsy, Zemo has successfully not reciprocated Rogers’ gestures and feelings.

It's like Rogers still wants Zemo, despite not wanting to be part of Hydra, and Baron Zemo – genius, brilliant tactician and strategist, master hypnotist/swordsman – cannot understand how is that possible and why is Rogers demonstrating an apparent (and certainly false?) interest in him.

During that week, it feels almost like when Zemo was first taken to the Tower – he’s the resident cryptid, a rare sighting. But this time Thor, Hawkeye and even the Hulk and Falcon are slightly concerned about the German, even though they have all decided not to join him in yet another Hydra hunt for the sake of watching what will happen next. Iron Man and Black Widow are convinced Baron Zemo is simply being dramatic and manipulative.

Once again, this is a very advantageous situation for the Avengers: Zemo has Captain America’s permission to go on his own, fight all he wants, empty as many bases as he can to take over Hydra again. But what the super-heroes are counting on is to have S.H.I.E.L.D. following Zemo’s every move and secure everything they can before the German does it. Rogers and Thor aren’t happy about using Zemo like this, but the shame they feel for not going with Zemo as requested simply to orchestrate against his goals is too strong to allow them any willpower to do or say otherwise.

* * *

 

Zemo had expected to leave undisturbed, but he should have known the bloody AI would give him away. That or Rogers has been spying on him since last night: these are the only reasonable explanations as to why Rogers, in his pyjamas, is currently standing next to Zemo on the helipad while he starts the Sky-Cycle:

“It’s pretty rude to leave without a word…” Rogers scolds, rubbing the sleep off his eyes. It’s not even dawn, but despite the height of the building and the early hours there’s already a warm breath on the chilly breeze around them:

“It is to make me even more suspicious,” Zemo retorts. All he’s taking with him are his weapons and some flash drives of his own creation that Tony Stark would certainly kill for – and by no means could Rogers convince him to take at least some bottles of water and protein bars.

With a groan, Rogers pinches his nose bridge:

“I don’t want to fight, Helmut…” He knows it’s too late for that, though, and his shoulders slump in disappointment as he looks up at the German about to leave. “If you need help… please, call me. I’ll go right away.”

“Hm, not too busy being a good super-hero?” The Sky-Cycle’s engine purrs to life and Rogers makes the wise decision of ignoring the provocation:

“You’ll come back, right?” Rogers asks in a rather fragile voice that makes Zemo’s masked head turn to face him. Their eyes meet. “You… you’ll come back to me, won’t you?”

Zemo is tempted to simply jump off the helipad to end his suffering: _why, why is Rogers keeping this charade??_ Why not trust Zemo, why not follow him and why still being affectionate and acting like there is still something??

Rogers would certainly not be doing this if Zemo had told him all about his plan… would have locked him in a cell…

Swallowing hard, Zemo looks away from Rogers:

“I will,” he grunts. He has to, right? Simply because the rehab into goodness is not over, yet. He gave his word he would follow through it, and to a Zemo honour is everything. He has no idea of when the rehab will finally come to an end, but having this «solo mission» when he’s supposedly only allowed to leave the Avengers Tower in the company of the super-heroes must be an important milestone. “That, of course, if nothing horrible happens to me…”

Captain America wants to complain about that last statement, but Zemo simply steers the Sky-Cycle away and leaves without looking back. Rogers remains in the helipad watching him, until he’s a dark spot against the still nocturnal sky and Rogers defeatedly walks back into the Tower.

Now there is nothing else left to do besides waiting… and tracking Zemo through his earpiece to make sure he will be fine… and won’t escape – _from the rehab, of course,_ because Rogers stubbornly refuses to believe he already lost Zemo.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I promise these dorks will stop being dumb to each other.*
> 
> Please, let me know what you think! :D


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idiots return in all their mighty sap.
> 
> Thank you so much guys for all your lovely support!! ;-; It means the world to me!

 Barely two days after Zemo’s departure, the Avengers are gathered with Nick Fury in the briefings room at the Avengers Tower. The director of S.H.I.E.L.D. _is not amused_ and points accusingly with a remote to the screen on the wall opposite to the large table the super-heroes are sitting at:

“So, Zemo’s first stop was in the Mexican desert and, when the agents following him got to the Hydra base… this was what they found,” Fury presses the remote, starting a slide-show of pictures of an empty underground facility, littered with corpses here and there, walls and doors splashed with blood. Rogers is the first to look down at his hands, joined over the table: part of him is disgusted by the bloodbath, but the other half can’t bring itself to blame Zemo… afterall, he’s alone, surrounded by enemies… he’s simply playing safe.

Like when he had to escape from captivity on his own.

“And when my agents tried to access the computers…” By the tone Fury uses, he’s more annoyed about this than about the corpses. Rogers looks up at the screen again to see Baron Zemo staring back at him, sitting cross-legged on an office chair with his sword resting on his legs.

It’s simply Zemo, and he’s in a screen, and it has just been two days… but the sight of him makes Rogers’ heart leap in his chest and he feels a tight knot in the pit of his stomach:

“You are either naïve or merely stupid…” the Zemo in the screen states, arrogance thickening his accent as he tilts his head to the side mockingly. “I am nobody’s slave, and only I shall profit from my hard work. You had your chance… now you must wait until I feel generous again. Which will not happen any time soon,” With that, Zemo stands up from his chair, walks up to the device he used to record himself and turns it off.

“He left a tablet with that. My best hackers couldn’t get into any of the computers and machines in that base! Zemo installed some sort of malware that blocks every attempt at logging in!” Fury complains. He looks at Rogers, carrying the mightiest frown any of the Avengers had ever seen. “Captain Rogers, I sincerely hope you know what you’ve done by letting Zemo go!”

Rogers merely nods, absentmindedly.

Zemo isn’t doing anything wrong, leave alone dangerous to society… he’s just being _petty_ , and Rogers knows for sure that Baron Zemo left that message for him alone; annoying S.H.I.E.L.D. is merely collateral damage the German certainly isn’t sorry for. By now, Rogers knows Zemo well enough to connect with pinpoint accuracy Zemo’s various degrees of tantrum to the actions he takes… and he can tell Zemo is _extremely_ _hurt_ , and the only way he can handle the feeling to keep himself functional is through causing mayhem – proof is how he dealt with the first Hydra Hunt before his breakdown with Rogers, and the way he begins arguments out of thin air. Funny how this immense knowledge of Zemo psychology comes only _after_ the mess is made, and Rogers sinks a little on his chair.

Captain America carries a lot of guilt with him, all related to the people he fails to help and misadventures of the Avengers, but some happenings have a special place in the Hall of Unforgivable: losing Bucky, missing his date with Peggy… and now, having let Zemo on his own.

He should have gone with Zemo, at least to be sure whether his gut feeling had been right or wrong – his friends would have understood if he had excused himself like this, right?

The briefing feels endless to Rogers, who just wants to run into the gym and take out all his frustrations on a punchbag. He’s growing tired of all these conspiracy theories in which Zemo is tricking them, he’s sick of all the comments about him being naïve and too kind-hearted.

His mobile rings, presenting the salvation for his current situation. Rogers jumps to his feet, excuses himself about needing to answer the call and leaves the conference room quickly, fumbling with the pouch he keeps his mobile in. He wants to see Zemo’s name on the screen, wants that the German is calling him because he needs help, or simply because he misses Rogers, or-

But it’s Klaus. Walking into the lift, Rogers feels his heart sink to the floor in disappointment:

“Hello?” he answers in a calm voice that sounds somewhat tight. The doors of the lift close and he presses the button to go to the living quarters:

“Captain Rogers,” Klaus salutes, but there is urgency and a hint of frustration in his voice. “My stupid cousin isn’t serious about Hydra… is he?”

Rogers sighs, somehow not surprised about Zemo, despite his family not talking to him, having shared his «brilliant» plan, certainly looking for the validation Rogers didn’t give him. He arrives to the living quarters and steps out of the lift, immediately looking at the kitchen isle and expecting to find Zemo reading while snacking.

The kitchen isle is covered in crumbs and empty cereal boxes:

“He is,” Rogers replies briefly, walking to one of the windows in the living room and staring outside. Such a beautiful day and he’s got no one to go out with – what a horribly selfish thing to say, when he lives with his friends, his makeshift family:

“But he said you…” Klaus mutters something in German, annoyed. “He’s not picking up the phone, can I give him a word through yours, Captain?”

“Helmut isn’t here,” It feels too much like when Zemo was kidnapped and Rogers had to tell his relatives about it. “I… I let him follow through with his plan… alone. But Klaus, Helmut is a good man, he wouldn’t go back to his old ways,” Rogers proceeds reassuringly, especially to himself.

Klaus grunts in German again, something that Captain America doesn’t understand but is about biting the hand that feeds you. Then Klaus sighs and adds, his voice lacking his usual determination and giving out just how old he is:

“I hope he isn’t answering my calls just to give me a taste of my own medicine, in typical Zemo fashion…”

* * *

 

Rogers can track Zemo’s movements because of his earpiece – the device is off, but thankfully Zemo hasn’t switched off the GPS in it. In four days, Zemo has gone to Mexico, Amazonia and is currently crossing the Atlantic towards Europe. He doesn’t answer the phone nor replies texts, and it’s in moments like these that Rogers finds Baron Zemo _unbearable_.

Ironically, this same exasperating man is the same that’s caring and good and gentle and selfless, he’s the man that warned Rogers about being difficult to deal with and is precisely the man Rogers decided he wants.

Looking away from the tablet with a world map and a red dot moving slowly across the Atlantic, Rogers tries to pay attention to the game of Trivial Pursuit again – and maybe to his bowl of doritos as well, and he narrows his eyes suspiciously at Tony, sitting next to him. It’s a quiet evening, the type he likes: no villains trying to take over/destroy the world, there are plenty of snacks and so the Hulk and Thor aren’t crying about being hungry, and the AC is working, keeping the Avengers fresh despite the hot temperature outside.

Yet… it’s too quiet. He misses Zemo complaining about Trivial Pursuit being too easy for his superior intellect, misses Zemo arguing with Thor, Hawkeye and the Hulk about the concept of private property extending to food, misses Zemo looking at him with the shadow of a smile and being cool while the others are around, only to later take Rogers in his arms when they are alone.

On the other hand, Tony is very happy about having only Avengers in the Avengers Tower: now only the good guys are here, and he doesn’t feel like his friendship with Captain America is threatened, nor that his intellect has found a matching rival. With luck, they have finally gotten rid of Zemo and the next time they cross paths with him is going to take him to the Vaults – it will probably be hard for poor Steve Rogers, but he’ll get over it. He’s surrounded by much better friends than… _Baron Zemo_.

Not all the super-heroes share Tony’s thoughts, though:

“I miss Zemo…” Hawkeye complains. Natasha looks at him sideways:

“You miss teaming up with him, let him answer all the questions and win the game for you…” she states dryly:

“That too…” Clint admits with a toothy grin:

“I too miss Helmut,” Thor announces sadly. “I hope he is doing well.”

“Can we just… talk about how you guys miss a super-villain that makes Cap miserable??” Tony can’t understand how some of the Avengers consider such a disagreeable man a friend. And is he the only who sees how Zemo wrecks Rogers when they argue?? Don’t the others see the introspective expression on Rogers’ face, don’t they see him following Zemo like a beaten yet loyal dog? Is Tony the only one Rogers tells to when he has an argument with Zemo?

Rogers frowns and suddenly he doesn’t want to play anymore:

“I’m right here, you know? Besides, you’re not easy to deal with either.”

“Oh? At least I don’t guilt-trip you!”

“It’s called reflecting and admitting one’s mistakes!”

An argument rises between Tony and Rogers about how Zemo is undeserving of Rogers’ friendship. The other Avengers merely watch, uncomfortable, because both Tony and Rogers have valid points, but the others keep their opinions for themselves to avoid further arguing.

Still, Zemo has successfully cracked the wall, and he might bring it down completely with little effort.

* * *

 

A week goes by. Every day Rogers calls Zemo, only to leave a message in the voicemail because the German doesn’t answer. The subject of conversation varies: in the first days Rogers just wants to excuse himself for the way he reacted and assure Zemo he doesn’t want to lose what is going on between them; then he simply promises Zemo that he will make things better for them; now he complains that he misses him and that Hakweye has discovered the Hulk’s Secret Stash Of Tasty Cereal and the two have been _impossible._ A man out of time, Captain America wishes once again he could go back and make things right, ask the same questions he asked but without ruining everything: Zemo could have told about his plan and Rogers could have kept lying on Zemo’s arms and ask lazily «Why my help, and Thor’s and Clint’s?», and they could have talked about it calmly and be affectionate to each other and could have enjoyed the picnic and maybe sleep a little more after eating…

He can only imagine how hard it was for Zemo, to have his trust broken again. Rogers knows better than any of the Avengers how much of an effort the German is putting into the rehab, into what was (and hopefully still is) going on between them. He knows it’s hard for Zemo, because of his upbringing and the political regime he grew up with and everything that has moved his actions until not so long ago. Think of it, and what is wrong with a son still wanting to honour his father’s memory: Heinrich Zemo may have not loved his son… but Helmut Zemo certainly still loves his father, no matter what he did, and Rogers shouldn’t have questioned it, shouldn’t have questioned Zemo’s _love_.

Rogers misses Zemo. A lot. Rogers is always longing for something: his time, Bucky, Peggy… but these are already unconscious, embedded in the back of his mind and numbed by his daily-life. However, Zemo is always there – the vacant spot in the couch, the empty seat at the kitchen isle, the locked bedroom across his, the missing team member, the exasperated groan every time Clint makes a pun… And Rogers worries about the German, wonders if he’s injured but not saying anything out of pride and hurt about how Rogers treated him. Following the red dot on the map in the tablet is gradually becoming an unhealthy obsession that his friends try to distract him from.

Tony Stark is getting very upset about how, even not _there_ , Baron Zemo is messing up his relationship with Rogers. The Avengers need something big, urgently, before Captain America decides to jump on a Sky-Cycle and go after Zemo to help him accomplish his evil agenda.

A godsend from another planet comes to answer Tony’s wishes one beautiful Sunday morning, when the Avengers are indulging in ice cream with biscuit for breakfast – Captain America is too busy tracking Zemo in North Italy to remind them about the importance of proper nutrition.

Impossible Man materialises in the middle of the living room, sitting on a directors chair and wielding a camera:

“My stars!!” he salutes excitedly, and the Avengers stare at him with a mortified look. “I have a new, exciting idea for an action movie… and you’re just the right cast!”

“We’re not interested!” Clint complains, banging his fist on the isle top. “Besides… we’re in pyjamas!! You can’t have an action movie with everybody in pyjamas!”

“Oh, but that would be a first!! Something never seen!!” Impossible Man chirps happily and claps his hands. The Avengers collectively curse as they’re suddenly… on a Texan desert, under the scorching sun, and some bare-footed super-heroes hiss in pain at the burning sand - Captain America has never been happier about wearing trainers indoors…

Fortunately, they have their weapons – except for Tony, who only has his gauntlets, and Natasha, who looks disappointedly at the single baton in her hand.

The little green alien cackles animatedly, floating around the Avengers, capturing the best angles of the super-heroes in pyjamas:

“And now… _action_!!” The last word is shouted with childish excitement, an innocent portent of doom.

There’s an ominous rumble above and a black hole is torn in the sky: a portal, and from there comes a hoard of Chitauri:

“Oh, _come on_!!” Hawkeye kicks the sand, angrily. Falcon tries to talk Impossible Man out of this before the Chitauri get to them:

“Don’t you think ‘Avengers vs Chitauri’ is a bit too cliché? We already faced them, remember?”

The alien considers for a moment, spins in the air absentmindedly, then grins and snaps his fingers:

“You’re absolutely right!” he agrees, but before the Avengers can sigh in relief, two more guests appear next to them, looking extremely confused for a moment. “ ‘Avengers vs Chitauri vs Juggernaut vs Whiplash’ sounds much better!!”

“I shouldn’t have left my bed…” Clint whines sadly:

“Sam, Thor, try to stall the Chitauri,” Rogers commands, assessing the situation immediately: it’s bad, and it would be nice if Juggernaut and Whiplash attacked the Chitauri too, but they obviously won’t do it because this is finally their chance to finish the Avengers. “Tony, since you’re grounded-“

“You’re not funny, you know that?”

“-give Sam and Thor some backup fire with Clint. Hulk, it’s time to smash that big guy over there. Widow, you’ve got Whiplash!” And Rogers will help everyone, starting by throwing his shield at the approaching aliens and knocking down a few.

The Avengers have fought in extreme conditions before, but never in a desert, during the day, in pyjamas, bare-footed and just partially armed. It’s difficult to aim with the sun in their eyes, it’s hard to move on burning sand and within minutes it’s almost impossible to breathe in the middle of the heat and dust. Tony Stark is definitely building an armour-pyjama after this... if he walks out of this, obviously.

Rogers throws his shield at Whiplash, hitting him hard and giving Natasha a good chance to knock him out with her baton. The shield returns to Rogers’ hand and he turns around to see who else needs help. Impossible Man is everywhere, capturing every angle, monologuing about this upcoming masterpiece.

Throwing his shield at Juggernaut, Rogers thinks bitterly about the Avengers’ missing swordsman: they could really use Zemo’s help now, he’s a valuable asset to the team. The shield returns, and for a second Rogers simply stares at it.

The Russian series Rogers and Zemo watched together was called ‘The Shield and the Sword’, about a Russian spy infiltrating the German military and the SS. Like Rogers, Zemo doesn’t like movies and series about WWII, and he abominates everything that focus on the defeat of Germany; yet, he had claimed Rogers would certainly enjoy that series because of the unlikely friendship between the Russian spy and an SS officer who ended up turning against the regime. And Zemo hadn’t been wrong: Rogers did enjoy the story, and he couldn’t help but compare it to him and Zemo – an unexpected friendship, and like the SS officer, so had Zemo changed for better (and Rogers truly believes so). Besides, it was somewhat funny to them that the series’ name fit their choice of weapons.

Captain America misses Zemo, misses spending quiet days watching movies with him and cuddling together.

“You look so thoughtful, care to share your mind with our spectators?” Rogers nearly jumps out of his skin, startled, and looks up to see Impossible Man filming upside-down.

The fight!

Distractions in the battlefield are for rookies, and, to begin with, Captain America is _no_ rookie – but more important than that, his friends’ lives and his own are at stake, he simply can’t afford distractions and daydreams! Reddening in embarrassment, rage and effort, Rogers charges to where a handful of Chitauri has landed and throws his shield at them.

Eventually, Thor manages to close the portal, and now the Avengers simply need to deal with the remaining dozens of aliens and with Whiplash and Juggernaut, who seem unaffected by the heat and the ongoing fight. Fortunately for the Avengers, Impossible Man doesn’t reopen the portal – instead, he announces the fighting scene is almost over, now that one of the heroes has solved one major issue.

But still things aren’t bright for the Avengers: Hawkeye, Falcon and Iron Man are surrounded by aliens; Thor has decided his friends on the ground can deal with the Chitauri and is now helping the Hulk with Juggernaut; Black Widow is having trouble with Whiplash.

So Rogers tackles Whiplash to the ground and tries to roll underneath him and catch him in a rear naked choke, to hold him in place while Natasha knocks him out.

Yet the Hulk and Thor come flying after being tossed against each other by Juggernaut, knocking against Black Widow and dragging her along to a rough landing few meters ahead. The second Rogers takes to assimilate what just happened is all Whiplash needs to wriggle and roll to the side, and even though Rogers is still holding him and rolls after him… it’s not a choke-hold anymore, and because the ground they’re fighting on is unstable, Whiplash manages to untwist one of his arms and crack his whip, hitting Rogers and stunning him a little. It’s not enough to make Rogers miss his blow at Whiplash’s lumbar… but Juggernaut pauses his charge towards where the Hulk, Thor and Natasha are scrambling to their feet to whack Rogers on the back, sending him face-first into the sand.

Whiplash takes the chance and kneels on Rogers’ back, pinning him down, and forces his head further into the burning desert sand.

Captain America is brave, but scarred. Rogers can’t see, can’t breathe. Distressed calls still reach his ears, but his sudden panic blocks his senses. For a moment he’s back in the ocean, unable to breathe, and the ice is gnawing at him, swallowing him, securing him, hurting him. This time, however, he can’t see the sunlight above the water, and suffocating in complete darkness is _terrifying_ ; this aren’t gelid waters stinging his skin, but scorching grains scratching him. The more Rogers fights back against the weight on his back, against the knees digging into his spine, the deeper he buries himself, the harder his face his pressed into the sand.

This is not how Rogers had thought he would die. Not this slowly, this painfully… this _shamefully_ , in a panic, flailing his limbs hopelessly as his friends watch, unable to help him. What kind of image is he going to leave for the generations to come? What kind of inspiration is he going to be for people? Captain America shall become the super-hero who died buried in sand, weak, helpless…

And he won’t even have the chance to apologise Zemo for all this mess.

He tries again to push himself up, summons all his super-strength to at least lift his head… and his hands and body sink a little bit more in the sand, but there’s light, and the feeling of air, and more distressed calls as the Avengers watch Captain America struggling but are unable to help, and he can _breathe_ and…

… and he gasps as a whip wraps viciously around his neck, electrocuting and strangling, and his head is pushed back into the sand, and the last thing he hears before panic blocking his senses again is Tony calling out for him.

He wants to resist, but fighting in the desert under the sun has taken a toll on him, and he’s growing exhausted, and he can’t breathe, and it hurts too much, and-

He’s rolled over his back so quickly his head spins, even though his eyes are closed because of the sand. Something starts to brush sand off his face gently, something smooth and cool yet hard like… leather.

Rogers takes in a tentative breath: he’s not buried on sand anymore, and the makeshift garrotte around his neck is loose. His eyes snap open and he breathes in desperately.

Baron Zemo’s masked head is staring at him, blocking the sun. The sounds of a desperate fight echo all around them, but Rogers can only focus on Zemo, wondering if he’s hallucinating while dying.

A dark, blurred shape approaches Zemo from behind and Rogers instinctively pulls Zemo down against him and tries to shield him with his arms:

“What a saving!! The perfect timing!!! A dramatic reunion, it seems!!!” Impossible Man shouts excitedly, zooming in impossibly close to get a good close-up of Zemo’s face buried on Rogers’ chest and trapped between his muscled arms. “A new hero for my movie!! The mysterious, masked-“

The little green alien disappears with a yelp as Zemo’s sword - flaming red with vibrational energy, like when he gained the vibranium particles of Klaw and control over them – slashes through the hair, narrowly missing Impossible Man.

“-and charmingly rough saviour of Captain America!” The alien materialises right behind Zemo, startling him. The German breaks free from Rogers’ arms and jumps to his feet, enraged, and is about to go after the alien filming him when Hawkeye yells at him that help to deal with the Chitauri would be appreciated.

Sitting slowly and massaging his sore throat, Rogers glances over his shoulder, to see Whiplash lying not far from him, knocked out for good by the vibrational energy on Zemo’s sword. Farther from him, Black Widow, Thor and the Hulk are still fighting Juggernaut. Scrambling to his feet, Rogers grabs his shield and rushes to help his friends deal with their gigantic opponent.

In the meantime, Zemo cuts his way through the Chitauri formation with his overpowered sword, and within minutes there are no more alien enemies and now everyone can focus on Juggernaut.

Impossible Man is over the moon with all the action, laughing and commenting and cheering for the Avengers and Baron Zemo, and when Juggernaut is finally knocked out by the Hulk and Thor, the alien starts a rain of confetti on his victorious cast and they’re finally back in the living room of the Avengers Tower.

The super-heroes are bruised, bloodied, sunburned, drenched in sweat, coated in sand and exhausted. Baron Zemo merely shakes dust off his suit, annoyed, and looks with narrowed eyes at the green alien whirling excitedly around the Avengers and talking about premiers and intergalactic success.

Suddenly, Impossible Man appears right in front of Zemo, startling him for the second time:

“And you, you’re new to the cast!” the alien comments, notepad and pen in hand to take notes. “What is your name?”

“He’s not even part of the cast!” Iron Man complains. “More like… a special guest…”

“ ‘Avengers vs Chitauri vs Juggernaut vs Whiplash: starring…’ ?” Impossible Man looks inquiringly at Zemo again:

“ _Baron Drama_!” Hawkeye whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, grinning – and maybe this whole thing wasn’t so bad if Zemo ends up being known as Baron Drama throughout the universe.

“Baron Zemo…” Zemo corrects quickly, crossing his arms imposingly, hiding his confusion about all this madness.

Impossible Man notes the name eagerly, produces another confetti rain and disappears, promising to send invites for the premiere.

With the alien gone, the Avengers collectively sigh in relief and groan: Rogers leans heavily against the back of the couch, Falcon and the Hulk sit on the floor, Natasha drags herself to the sink to drink water, Thor and Hawkeye rush to the kitchen isle and look disappointedly at the melted ice cream in their bowls… but Tony frowns and points an accusing finger at Zemo, standing _annoyingly unscathed_ :

“You were in North Italy, how the heck did you get here so quickly?” he asks, not really wanting to admit Zemo had a great timing and _thank goodness he showed up_. “And how did you know where to find us?”

Zemo chuckles, not bothering to hide the malice in it, and vanishes into thin air only to reappear again behind Iron Man:

“Your gauntlets have a GPS and the AI tracked it down,” Zemo explains briefly. He had materialised in an empty Avengers Tower, and had been quite pleased by that – he would have time to shower and relax and overall avoid Rogers just a bit more. But then F.R.I.D.A.Y. had complained about a green alien kidnapping the Avengers – in pyjamas, unarmed, without even finishing breakfast – and had politely requested Zemo to go help them.

Baron Zemo hadn’t wanted to go.

If he had to do things on his own, then the team of super-heroes would have to as well. He’s still hurt, still feeling betrayed, and had told the AI to not bother him. Yet he had seen Rogers’ tablet on the kitchen isle, his untouched bowl of fiber cereal among a feast of ice cream, and the tablet signaled a red dot inside the Avengers Tower: had Rogers been tracking him down for the whole time, was he worried about Zemo or merely spying his progress? Zemo had then groaned, asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. about the Avengers’ whereabouts and teleported.

And had arrived right on time to see some punk trying to kill Rogers.

“I thought we’d confiscated your toys when you went to the S.H.I.E.L.D. prison…” Tony eyes suspiciously the two buttons attached to Zemo’s belt – a teleporting device and another device that allows Zemo to control vibranium particles:

“Seems you have not… _Schade_ … (Pity…)” While fighting Hydra on his own, Zemo took the chance to go home a little, and he keeps a secret stash of weaponry and a variety of helpful devices in what were once the dungeons of castle Zemo, in Leipzig. “You are still poor and ungrateful: I save the day and all you do is whining and questioning…”

Tony seethes: seems Zemo’s vacation has refined his cruelty. Though Rogers is safe now, Tony will never forgive himself for having been unable to help him, for being so useless without his full armour that Rogers – his best friend – had to suffer until Zemo materialised next to him and saved him.

It should have been Iron Man saving Captain America… not _Baron Zemo_.

“You could have showed up earlier, Baron Spotless…” Tony grunts, almost spitting the last word and crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively.

“Right, that’s enough!” Rogers moves away from the couch, his voice strong and commanding despite the large bruise on his throat, where the whip choked him like a garrotte. “You’re coming with me, Helmut: I want a detailed report and an explanation about the malware you installed on every Hydra base you raided.”

“Aw, come on Cap! Don’t ground him just yet!” Clint complains, stirring the mortal remains of his ice cream with biscuit in his bowl _– Hawkeye totally not misses Zemo and he totally doesn’t feel the need to make sure the German isn’t holding a grudge against him for this lonely Hydra hunt_ ; nope, he just thinks it’s only fair that, since Zemo saved the day, he should be left in peace.

Captain America, however, raises one authoritative eyebrow, the gesture that ceases all the fun/banter/discussions because… _this is serious_. The Eyebrow Of Doom is then redirected towards Zemo, who looks like he wants to side with Hawkeye and complain further about the poor reception he’s getting.

But all Zemo does is to grudgingly follow Rogers into the lift, hurt and betrayal intensifying to the point that he actually _regrets_ having materialised on the desert and helped him. The thought of teleporting somewhere else feels extremely appealing, but what would be the point? Now that he’s here, Zemo will finish his job of destroying the Avengers and then move on with life.

* * *

 

Rogers locks the door of the conference room and requests F.R.I.D.A.Y. to not disturb.

And when he looks at Zemo again all authority is gone, replaced by concern and longing – Zemo feels a knot in the pit of his stomach, wishing he would feel nothing but disgust for the man who killed his father and refuses to fix the mess he made:

“Are you wounded?” Rogers asks in a quiet tone, nothing like the voice he used before.

While he was away, Baron Zemo improved his walls here and there by adding bits of stone. But the clay was already too dry, and now, with that question, the stones are detaching and falling, cracking the clay in the process.

Zemo stands glued to the spot as Rogers approaches him carefully, merely shaking his head as a reply. Rogers stops within arm reach, keeping his hands crossed behind his back:

“I’m sorry, Helmut…” he mutters, visibly making an effort to look straight at Zemo’s masked face. Rogers doesn’t feel comfortable to address feelings with that piece of cloth standing between them, but he doesn’t want to push Zemo too much – he was lucky enough that the German followed him into the conference room without much complain.

Baron Zemo, courageous man and superior being above feelings and emotions, turns his back at Rogers while trying desperately to duct tape the cracks on his clay wall:

“Are you going to give me a pen and paper to write the report, or am I supposed to dictate, or-“

“I don’t want a report, Helmut… I just want to talk to you,” Rogers smiles a little at how Zemo turns around abruptly to look at him, his masked face clearly indignant about being lured under false pretenses. “We need to talk…”

Rogers’ voice is soft, but carries too much emotions for Zemo’s liking. The German looks away again, not wanting to stare at Rogers’ bruised and scratched face, at his bruised neck, at his torn and dirty clothes and remember again Whiplash trying to kill him. Zemo doesn’t want to care and doesn’t want to believe _Rogers_ cares… still cares, after blatantly refusing him and stating he doesn’t trust him.

“You made yourself clear, there is not much left to discuss,” Zemo grumbles, trying to be more interested in the view from the window than in Rogers’ reflection in the glass:

“I’m sorry…” It sounds hollow and little, and Rogers takes in a deep breath, like he’s about to jump behind enemy lines with a parachute. He sits at the edge of the large table in the conference room and looks down at his dusty trainers and torn sweatpants around the knees. “Listen, Helmut…”

And he tells Zemo again he’s sorry about all this, that he thought things through and concluded he made a mistake; he explains he’s been trying to juggle the Avengers and Zemo and make everyone happy, and even though he’s not making a good job he doesn’t want to give up, he wants to try and make things better, he wants to be what Zemo needs. His voice is calm, but shakes a little sometimes when he mentions something that involves feelings and emotions, and it scares Zemo that Rogers talks about that so openly, makes himself so vulnerable… and drags Zemo into it too.

Because Zemo, though hurt and betrayed and still trying to fix his crumbling clay wall, wants to believe everything Rogers is saying: he had a taste of what was like to be cared for, wanted, cherished… _and he wants it all again_. So much for spending a week away from Rogers, proving himself he needed nobody…

“Am I not good enough?” Zemo asks without even weighting the words, then clamps his mouth with a hand hurriedly, cursing himself, because he was supposed to be suspicious of Rogers, unwilling to let him close again… yet he’s not.

He hears steps approaching and sees Rogers’ reflection becoming more clear as Captain America walks up to him. Zemo tenses up, watching in resignation as his wall collapses completely, and feels a hand on his shoulder, warm and big and reassuring:

“ _Don’t you ever say that again_ ,” Rogers whispers with feeling, turning Zemo around to face him. Zemo meets an incredibly serious – and somewhat scared – face, and Rogers widens his eyes for emphasis as he speaks. “It wasn’t _you_ , it was _me_.”

It was Rogers who suspected of Zemo’s plan, it was Rogers who didn’t want to go… but Baron Zemo wasn’t completely honest, either. Zemo had almost forgotten it, that he had lied and played victim, even if he had felt genuinely hurt at how easily Rogers suspected him:

“You were tracking me…” Zemo mutters, looking at Rogers’ hand on his shoulder:

“I wanted to know if you were alright: you wouldn’t pick up the phone or reply to my texts…”

Zemo tries to sweep the crumbled clay wall under the carpet to have room to least _dig a ditch_ , but the moment he lifts the carpet, all the things he had already hidden under it escape in a chaotic whirl. Feelings of hurt and wanting, of betrayal and shame, of abandonment and adoration, of guilt and longing.

The German is tired of arguing. He remembers how shouting and yelling and violence arrived one day to his family to never leave again, remembers deciding he would never want that for him. He wants to be better than his father, better in all aspects… including being a better partner.

Rogers and Zemo have made it so far, is it really worth it to throw everything away when Zemo himself wasn’t completely honest in the first place?

“Ich hab’ dich vermisst…” (I missed you…) Zemo growls lowly, but Rogers still hears _vermisst_ , and it’s all he needs. The anxious look disappears from his face and he smiles:

“I missed you, too.”

And then they are finally in each other’s arms, holding tight, heads hidden in the crook of each other’s necks. They squeeze and grunt and clutch, until they relax gradually and allow their hands to slide down, fingers mapping and brushing muscles and edges and curves, ceasing explorations at the small of the other’s back. Zemo is the first to lift his head, nuzzling softly at Rogers’ jaw – they didn’t touch for an eternity, yet it feels natural, like they weren’t apart at all. Rogers is red, but he raises his head too and brushes his nose against Zemo’s mask, inquiring, looking for the German’s nose and mouth, wanting to remove the mask and look at Zemo’s face, touch it. They are starved, but only now realise it.

To redeem himself from not having been honest with Rogers, Zemo is going to forgive him. And Hawkeye and Thor too… He’ll also take a break from planning the Avengers’ doom and simply enjoy _this_ – Rogers’ arms around him, Rogers’ breath on his own, Rogers’ closeness, Rogers’ touch.

“Director Fury wants a word with Baron Zemo,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces, startling both men, who spring to opposite sides of the room; Zemo hits his hip against a corner of the table and hisses in pain, Rogers nearly stumbles on the carpet on the floor and grabs a chair for support.

A moment of silence follows, with both super-soldiers looking at each other in confusion, feeling F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s (inexistent) judgmental eyes on them. Rogers’ face is as red as a tomato and so is Zemo’s under the pink mask, but they don’t remember being _this_ embarrassed while in each other’s embrace.

This is quite the bummer, but it’s also the perfect opportunity for Rogers to show Zemo he’s committed into making things better for them:

“Fury will have to wait; Helmut had just arrived from a mission when he went to save us in the desert and he needs rest,” Rogers states in a commanding tone. The AI sighs:

“Director Fury says it’s important. He wants to know about the collected intel from the Hydra facilities,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says, but Rogers simply shakes his head:

“Later.”

“As you wish, Captain.”

A moment of silence follows and the AI says nothing else – Fury is probably too irritated to insist, but Captain America doesn’t care anymore: right now Zemo is his priority, and he won’t let the German down again.

Zemo bows his head at him, thankful for having a lecture about blocked technology postponed to another time, when he’s not hungry and tired and stirred by Rogers’ closeness – not that he’ll hear what Fury wants to say, anyway…

They exit the conference room visibly more relaxed around each other and in companionable silence. There is no need to reach out for each other again, and in speechless agreement they decide to spend the rest of the day alone with their thoughts.

The living room is empty when they return, and only a mayhem of ice cream boxes, empty packages of biscuits and dirty bowls on the kitchen isle is testimony of how the Avengers were more concerned about breakfast than having a shower to clean away dust and sand and sweat. Walking side by side, Rogers and Zemo cross the living room towards the corridor, until they reach their respective bedrooms. They exchange a brief look, only to have Clint bolting past them, cackling, with Thor chasing him while complaining about stolen candy.

And as ignominious as it sounds… Baron Zemo has missed these childish super-heroes he calls friends.

* * *

 

Having time to sit down at his laptop and go through all the intel he stored is quite a luxury after being on the run, jumping from Hydra base to Hydra base, always in a hurry to have an advantage over the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents following him, and with just one brief stop at home.

Baron Zemo is very pleased with himself: the hunt was good, though he managed to attack and take over only small and remote facilities. He’s positive he’ll eventually get to the big ones, but that has time. Now, he wants to relax, enjoying the fact that he’s got all this data stored in his special pen drives (and with back-ups at home) and that S.H.I.E.L.D. will have to beg for a long, long time until he mercifully gives them a few crumbs of intel.

A knock on the door distracts him, and he leaves the laptop on his bed to go answer the door.

Captain America is standing there, with a big smile and looking well-rested from the misadventure in the desert, the day before. His face and neck are no longer bruised and scratched, his hair is combed perfectly and he’s wearing clean and intact jeans and a t-shirt:

“Still working?” Rogers asks, looking at the laptop over the bed. Fury hasn’t demanded to talk to Zemo again, so Rogers better take the chance and make up for the wasted time: he wants to be with Zemo and show him just how much he _wants_ him.

Zemo, not wearing his mask, shrugs and leans against the doorframe:

“I am a baron, Steven; I am always busy,” he replies, curious as to what Rogers is planning for them. Captain America tilts his head:

“Always? How about…” Rogers falters, blushes as his confidence is magically gone, and whatever he’s about to suggest, Zemo is immediately on board. “I was thinking… you’re probably tired from… I could…” Clearing his throat seems to give Rogers a bit of confidence back, though when he speaks the volume of his voice has decreased. “… give you a massage…?”

The question hangs in the air for a moment. Zemo can’t remember having been given a proper massage – his father had always turned them into anatomy lessons, demonstrating where to pinch and press to cause pain and momentary paralysis. Comparing this to just how wonderful it must be to feel Rogers’ big and warm hands kneading his muscles, suddenly all the intel Zemo collected feels… mediocre. Besides, Baron Zemo is not one to refuse pampering, especially when it’s _Steve Rogers_ offering to spoil him.

Little later they are in Rogers’ bedroom, and while Rogers politely retreats into the bathroom to fetch a good muscle rub, Zemo undresses his turtleneck sweater, folds it neatly and leaves it on the couch near Rogers’ bed.

Then, hesitantly, he crawls over the bed and lies on his stomach, crossing his arms under his chin and waiting for Rogers’ return while his heart leaps madly in his chest. Rogers returns with a cream he uses on himself after intense training, smiling nervously and with an increasing blush on his cheeks.

They could almost forget they had been apart in bad terms, but if they did, they wouldn’t be so eager.

Climbing to the bed and kneeling next to Zemo only increases the blush, and if Rogers had grabby hands before, now that he stares at the shaped muscles on Zemo’s back he’ll get even worse. He’s pretty sure he shouldn’t be seeing Zemo like this so soon, but Captain America isn’t losing Zemo again and if it takes skipping a few stages of proper dating… _so be it_. Clearing his throat, he pours a generous amount of muscle rub on the middle of Zemo’s back and sets to work.

He’s startled by the little, appreciative whine that escapes the German, but now that he heard it he just wants _more_.

In about twenty minutes, Captain America learns a few things about Baron Zemo: he’s ticklish along the length of his spine, his taut and shaped muscles turn into a mass of jelly with the right pressure, he’s definitely prone to napping when feeling comfortable… and keeps whining and moaning in his light sleep. Rogers enjoys that he can do this to Zemo, likes this awkward power, and he shivers in delight at the thought of some day making even more of this to Zemo.

He stills his hands on the small of Zemo’s back, not daring to look further down and instead focusing on the German’s face, savouring just how relaxed he looks.

Little later, Zemo opens one eye lazily and grunts, complaining, and closes his eye again. This feels too good, and after all he’s been through he deserves it and he’ll bask in it. So he wriggles his back lazily, requesting more massage; Rogers chuckles and reaches out for the muscle rub again, keeping one hand on the small of Zemo’s back.

“Captain Rogers, Director Fury is landing on the helipad to speak to Baron Zemo and requests your presence as well,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informs calmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sap is cut short. :'D Please come back later for more.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My people!! Thank you so much for your wonderful support!!
> 
> (also, the saga of multi-notes continues!! I can't disable it!!)

Having Fury violently and menacingly begging for Hydra intel certainly is one of the high peaks of Baron Zemo’s life. But the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. can yell and wave his fists and stomp his feet all he wants – _he’ll get nothing_.

Rogers, standing quietly next to Zemo, is growing bored of Fury’s useless attempts at intimidating the German: Baron Zemo is throwing a tantrum for having gone alone and Rogers knows there’s nothing left to do besides waiting until Zemo feels in the mood to cooperate. This attempt at briefing is a complete waste of time, and Captain America wants to put his and Zemo’s time to much better use: like finally sparring together (which would automatically justify another massage), or going out to enjoy the sun and eat some ice cream away from glutton team-mates, or watching a movie…

It’s time to stop this waste of time… and also another good opportunity to demonstrate Zemo that Rogers truly means it when saying he wants to make things better for them:

“I’m sure Helmut will share what he has, later,” Rogers states calmly yet in a firm tone that makes Fury stop mid-rant. Rogers and Zemo don’t look at each other, but Rogers rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Next time I’ll go with him and I’ll collect all the available intel; I didn’t go this time because I wanted to see what Helmut would do… and he didn’t run off, which makes me really proud of him.”

Fury frowns, but he admits Rogers has a point – Baron Zemo effectively dismantled a few Hydra facilities all by himself, returned to the Avengers Tower… and so far, has posed no threat. Apparently, Captain America is being successful in this rehab… _apparently_ … Besides, Zemo has proved before to respond only to Rogers, who might be the only person in the world who’ll eventually get Zemo to share that intel.

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, Fury concludes there’s nothing left for him other than trusting Captain America and waiting.

* * *

 

Rogers waits until he’s alone with Zemo in the lift to finally look him in the eye and grab his arms urgently:

“I didn’t mean-“

“I know, Steven…” The German smiles, understanding. “We have already talked about it. And I am going to show you the intel. _But to you alone_.”

Nodding slowly, Rogers looks down: getting Zemo to share the intel with _him alone_ is better than sharing with _nobody_ , and keeping it a secret feels like a fair price to Rogers. He still holds Zemo’s arms:

“And I’m going with you the next time… not to spy on you, of course… That is…” He looks up at the German again. “… if you still want me to go with you…”

Seems Baron Zemo still has a pretty good chance of destroying the Avengers! He takes a moment to marvel at the sight of Captain America requesting to aid him in another Hydra hunt – and to think that, weeks ago, it almost drove them apart! Zemo realises his work is finally done, and all he needs to do now is to wait and see the final product flourish and thrive; he has successfully divided the super-heroes, and while the crack in the wall is just that, soon it will be large and deep enough to cause real damage.

The immediate reward of his hard work is standing right there in front of him: Captain America, Steve Rogers – his newest Hydra general… and _more_. Because this time Zemo is going to be patient, and he’ll show Rogers just how much he wants him, and Rogers will leave the Avengers _for him_.

His smile widens and he gives Rogers a gentle headbutt:

“Of course I want you, Steven…” he says softly, and Rogers beams at him. “I always want you.”

The doors of the lift open and they exit to the living room, still smiling fondly at each other. Their smiles falter a little when they notice the Avengers are gathered by the windows, looking outside:

“Guys?” Rogers calls, and Sam looks over his shoulder to him:

“Guess who’s causing a major traffic jam in downtown…”

* * *

 

 _Juggernaut_. The Avengers had been so relieved when Impossible Man brought them back to the Tower, they completely forgot about Juggernaut.

By the way he tears down post lamps and street signs and smashes cars, Juggernaut is not pleased about having been left in the desert…

Rogers leaves Zemo in charge of removing civilians from the perimeter, and the German requests Black Widow’s and Hawkeye’s help, since they don’t have any power that would be of much use in an initial stage of the fight – Juggernaut is on a rampage, insensitive to everything but the Hulk’s and Thor’s blows.

A combined attack from the Avengers just infuriates Juggernaut a bit more, and instead of simply pulling off street lamps from the sidewalk and discard them in anger, Juggernaut starts using them as weapons – as much as Iron Man hates do admit it, he’s glad that Zemo is an expert swordsman, because while the gigantic villain and Zemo fence, the Avengers give their best to knock Juggernaut down: Black Widow, Falcon and Iron Man attack his back, Thor strikes him with lightning, the Hulk tries to hold his legs to unbalance him and bring him down, Hawkeye shoots stun-arrows at him and Captain America is constantly throwing his shield at Juggernaut’s head.

Juggernaut eventually stumbles and falls forwards, and Zemo needs to leap backwards to avoid the gigantic man falling towards him. The Hulk immediately jumps at Juggernaut’s back and tries to hold him in a choke-hold and keep him in place, so that Natasha can electrocute him. Yet Juggernaut manages to push himself up again, throwing himself with a roar against the pillar of a nearby building, to smash the Hulk between the concrete wall and his back. The pillar collapses at the first impact, sending Juggernaut and the Hulk tumbling down into a shop.

Thor comes to support the building hurriedly while Iron Man and Falcon dive into the shop through the shattered window to help the Hulk… though the next second the three of them are tossed out of the shop again.

Juggernaut emerges from the shop, but he’s getting tired. Zemo sees an opportunity and approaches stealthily, in a large semi-circle, taking the chance that Juggernaut is looking the other way, at where the Avengers are gathering. Zemo approaches just enough, disables the vibrational energy field on his blade and swings his arms, his sword cutting through clothes and muscle – his plan is to sever the tendons on the back of Juggernaut’s legs.

But the adamantium blade merely cuts through muscle – he shouldn’t have disabled the vibrational energy. Snarling in pain, Juggernaut turns at him and tries to hit him, but Zemo is a master strategist, always one step ahead, and has already put his long legs to good use by running away, cursing under his breath:

“Way to go, Zemo! Now he’s even more pissed!!” Iron Man complains in his earpiece. A block of concrete flies past the German, who opts for taking cover behind an abandoned taxi:

“I do not recall your attacks being effective…” he replies, peeking at Juggernaut, who’s coming towards him with clenched fists, walking heavily like his legs aren’t injured at all. Zemo clicks his tongue in annoyance and switches his sword for his pistols.

But Hawkeye, from the top of the nearest building, shoots an electrocuting arrow at Juggernaut, hitting an exposed bit of his neck, and the gigantic villain stops in his tracks and falls on his knees, grunting in pain as electricity forces him to bow down:

“I’m the best!” Hawkeye chants victoriously from Zemo’s earpiece. Looking up, the German can see the archer making a little victory dance on the top of the building. He smiles under his mask and rolls his eyes, sighing in fake annoyance.

Rogers comes running, ready to hit his shield across Juggernaut’s face and knock him out for good. Zemo walks away from his hiding place, admiring Captain America running and jumping, building momentum and strength, twisting his torso and tensing his muscles, lifting his shield above his head – a beautiful, powerful sight, and Zemo licks his lips, imagining how Rogers must look like under his suit.

However, Juggernaut isn’t defeated yet, and though he’s still on his knees and bowed, he looks up at Rogers and raises his fist, that collides in all its might and upgoing force against Rogers’ descending weight, hitting him on the chest with such force that instead of projecting Rogers backwards, Juggernaut immobilizes him.

Rogers’ pained gasp echoes in everyone’s earpieces, before Juggernaut tosses him away to the side, effortlessly, while trying to stand up.

Zemo isn’t sure of how it happened, but when he realises he’s kneeling next to Rogers, cupping his face and watching with great concern at how Rogers breathes with visible pain and difficulty. With frantic hands, he removes Rogers’ headgear and looks attentively at his face, dreading the appearance of blood from his nose or mouth.

Fortunately, such doesn’t happen, and Zemo sighs in relief, automatically discarding injury to the lungs. The fight proceeds not far from them, but right now there is just the two of them in the world, inside a bubble of eerie silence punctuated by Rogers’ pained and elaborated breathing:

“Use your shield, next time…” Zemo grunts, shaking his head disapprovingly. Rogers smiles at him and tries to laugh, but it comes out as a whimper and his smiling face contorts in pain. He tries to move, yet lacerating pain in his chest turns moving his arms into something extremely uncomfortable.

With a worried frown, Zemo hurries to unbuckle Rogers’ belt and carefully pulls up the upper part of the uniform, exposing Rogers’ abdomen and chest – and finding a concerningly huge bruise: with luck, only the sternum is broken and the ribs are intact. They still need to call medical support for Rogers, he shouldn’t walk on his own, or move at all while he hasn’t a proper diagnostic.

This was not how Zemo had expected to finally see Rogers’ sculpted torso, and it’s something he hopes he will never see again…

Juggernaut is tossed past them with a yelp, followed by a roaring Hulk. Iron Man comes to kneel next to Rogers, shoving Zemo aside a little:

“Running a scan…” Iron Man mutters, frowning at the bruise on Rogers’ chest. “Broken sternum, broken third, fourth and fifth ribs on the left side and cracked costal cartilage in several places.”

“How about stop wasting time and call for medical back-up?” Zemo shoves Iron Man aside too, recovering his initial spot by Rogers’ side and cupping his face again:

“I’ve got this, Zemo! I’ll take him to a S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital!”

“Are you a complete idiot or simply sadistic? _Do not move him, you will hurt him_!!”

Rogers fears Zemo and Iron Man will start a fight over his well-being, but Natasha comes over, waving her Avengers’ card, and stands imposingly behind Zemo and Tony:

“I called S.H.I.E.L.D., they’ll send someone; now stop arguing and come help us with Juggernaut!”

Baron Zemo, however, has better things to do that dealing with a gigantic villain (even because Juggernaut is already knocked out and the Hulk cracks his knuckles victoriously), like watching over Rogers. _His_ Rogers, _his_ Hydra general:

“I will go to the hospital with you, Steven…” he says softly, smiling reassuringly despite the mask covering his face:

“No you’re not…” Tony scoffs.

Rogers looks hurriedly at Baron Zemo and Iron Man, starring daggers at each other, then looks up to Natasha, who simply shrugs. Captain America takes in a deep, painful breath, moving his head from side to side in discomfort and attempting to free himself from Zemo’s grip – that’s going from gentle to painfully possessive:

“You stay here supervising, Helmut; Tony comes with me,” he states quietly, but by the way Zemo is startled and immediately releases his face, it could seem that Rogers has yelled at him. “I know you hate hospitals, Helmut…”

Zemo opens his mouth to complain: he _does hate_ hospitals… but he still wants to go with Rogers, look after him, make him company!

“Shoo, shoo! Go, enjoy your opportunity to boss around!” Tony mocks, nodding in approval at Rogers’ decision: since Iron Man and Captain America are best friends, it’s only fitting that they go together to the hospital.

* * *

 

Thor and the Hulk throw Juggernaut into a containment cell and Sam types down a code to lock it: Juggernaut will remain there until S.H.I.E.L.D. comes to pick him up to the Vaults.

Baron Zemo, who never misses a chance to interfere in the Avengers’ chain of command, isn’t enthusiastic about being in charge – he would rather be at the hospital with Rogers. But since he’s not, then at least he’ll make a good job out of leading the Avengers:

“You, super-spy,” He signals Black Widow with his head. “Try to locate Whiplash; if Juggernaut made it out of the desert, then the other punk might have achieved the same feat.”

“I’m a super-spy too!” Hawkeye complains, sticking his tongue out at Natasha, who merely rolls her eyes before leaving:

“She looks more professional,” Zemo replies nonchalantly, making the Hulk, Thor and Sam laugh:

“Sock-Face has a point!” the Hulk agrees, slapping Hawkeye’s back and unbalancing him.

Zemo looks at them bitterly; he should be thrilled about having _Captain America-approved/delegated_ power over them, should be demonstrating how he’s such a great leader and that they all would be better at Hydra, under his righteous command, than at the Avengers. He’s not happy, and can’t wait to be alone in his room and for Rogers to come back.

The German doesn’t feel like bickering with Hawkeye or discuss the fight with Thor, so he merely leads the group into the lift, in silence, and remains quiet while Thor and the Hulk complain about the lift being too small, while Sam whines about delayed grades and while Hawkeye daydreams of Chinese food.

When they reach the living quarters, Thor, the Hulk and Hawkeye rush to the kitchen. But while the Asgardian and the Hulk shove each other aside to have better access to the fridge, Hawkeye notices Zemo crossing the living room quietly together with Falcon.

Zemo has been unusually quiet since Rogers was taken to the S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital and, for a man who craves power so much, he’s being incredibly indifferent to it. Despite not looking like it, Barton isn’t stupid, and he immediately understands Baron Zemo, their rehabbing super-villain, is genuinely concerned about Rogers’ well-being. Reassuring Zemo would be… awkward, Thor is more skilled for that; still, Hawkeye addresses the situation the best he can, just to let Zemo know he can count on his friends:

“Hey, Zemo!” He watches as the German stops and glances over his shoulder. Fighting back a grin, Hawkeye proceeds. “Don’t worry, Cap will be _Bach,_ ” He bursts out laughing the moment he says it. “ _Goethe_ it?”

Stunned for a few seconds, Zemo can only blink his eyes slowly, flinching slightly at Hawkeye’s hysterical laughter. Then he shakes his head, shocked:

“You were not born, Barton: you were found in lost property!” he utters in disbelief, but does little to conceal the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Shaking his head, Zemo proceeds his way to his bedroom, feeling somewhat better at the thought that his concerns for Rogers’ well-being are understood. Finally alone and with time to shower and change clothes, Zemo politely requests F.R.I.D.A.Y. to let him know when Captain America returns.

* * *

 

Iron Man comes back with Rogers later in the evening. Rogers had to undergo surgery because one of the broken ribs was hanging dangerously close to his lung, but by the next day he’ll be fully healed.

Yet now he’s a bit groggy from the anaesthetic, and the painkiller he was given doesn’t work at all. In Rogers’ mind there is only one goal: reach his bed to lie down, and with Tony’s help he makes it to his bedroom and sprawls on the bed, dozing off almost instantly despite the pain coming from his bandaged chest.

However, before he can fully fall asleep, he hears a knock on the door. Rogers is confused for a moment, because he wasn’t aware of Tony leaving him to rest. He doesn’t feel like answering the door, but he carefully – and painfully – pushes himself up, sits at the edge of the bed and then wobbles towards the door to open it.

He takes a little to understand it’s Zemo standing there in front of him, but when he finally does, he smiles sleepily and stands aside, letting the German in his bedroom, concluding that it was worth it to leave the comfort of his bed:

“How are you feeling, Steven?” Zemo asks in a quiet tone, immediately cupping Rogers’ face and studying him: Rogers’ blue eyes, always so lively and attentive, are now slightly distant and dull, having trouble focusing on Zemo; Rogers is visibly weakened and in pain, swaying slightly and trying to breath as shallowly as possible; and he’s still in his uniform.

Rogers tilts his head, leaning into Zemo’s touch and closing his eyes a little:

“Cou’be bett’r…” Roger slurs, in desperate need to lie down and be as still as possible. He doesn’t like to complain about whether he’s hurt or not, but in such an undignified state he has no other option but being open about it.

Humming in understanding, Zemo carefully wraps an arm around Rogers’ waist and leads him to the couch near the bed, where they sit together, then Zemo helps Rogers to lie on his back, resting his head on Zemo’s legs. Rogers hisses in pain until he’s completely still, his legs stretched and feet hanging out of the couch, but he sighs softly in satisfaction, finally somewhat comfortable.

They spend a while in silence. Zemo carefully rests a hand over Rogers’ abdomen and the other hesitantly caresses his face, afraid of disturbing him. But Rogers just smiles, relaxed:

“I wanted to go with you…” Zemo complains, feeling a little hurt. “I mean it… when I say I want to be by your side.”

Rogers opens his eyes and looks at Zemo, the relaxed smile leaving his face:

“I know, Helmut… But I also know you hate hospitals, and I’ve no wish of dragging you into one anytime soon…” He still speaks slowly, but the slur is gone. Closing his eyes again, Rogers remembers waiting by Zemo’s hospital bed, how it was endless and exhausting. He didn’t want to have Zemo waiting and worrying for him outside the surgery room. “We’re better here…”

Zemo nods in agreement to that last part, though Rogers doesn’t see it. Silence drags between them again, with Rogers dozing off and breathing lightly and Zemo playing with Rogers’ blond hair, distracted, enjoying the peaceful moment between them. This moment is theirs alone and Zemo appreciates his protective and comforting role. With a content sight, the German looks around briefly and notices the framed pictures on Rogers’ bedside table: he recognises Bucky, but he has no idea who the woman might be.

Little later Rogers opens his eyes again, taking in a deep breath and flinching in pain slightly. His eyes are more focused now, though he still looks sleepy. The feeling of Zemo’s fingers combing through his hair is extremely relaxing and the weight of his other hand on Rogers’ abdomen is reassuring. Slowly, Rogers raises a hand and traces the scar on the left of Zemo’s face, the one going from his cheekbone to his chin:

“Which one did you get first?” he asks curiously, and smiles fondly as Zemo leans in to the touch:

“That one, at nineteen,” he tells, closing his eyes appreciatively as Rogers’ fingers keep brushing his face. One of Helmut Zemo’s greatest sorrows is that his father didn’t live to see his dueling scars – the current baron takes comfort in the supposition that his father would have been proud. He sighs. “The woman in the picture… is she your mother?”

Rogers’ smile dies and his hand stills on Zemo’s chin:

“No… She’s Peggy, she… we fought together in the war,” The answer makes Zemo raise an inquisitive eyebrow, and Rogers looks away. “I…”

“She meant something to you,” Zemo states, drumming his fingers softly on Rogers’ blond head, considering whether or not to be jealous of a woman who’s certainly dead by now:

“I didn’t even make it to our first date…” Smiling sadly, Rogers realises that talking about his short-lived first love isn’t that painful anymore; it’s simply… bitter. He feels good now, with Zemo. Good enough to think that Peggy would be happy for him because he deserves this. “How about you, Helmut; have you ever… fallen… for someone, before?”

Zemo snorts and grimaces, shaking his head: Baron Zemo did not have time for such trifles – he had a father to avenge, a position in Hydra to win, studies to finish and an estate to run. The German’s reaction makes Roger smile widely, despite feeling a mixture of pride and dread at the responsibility that is being Zemo’s first object of interest. Yet the way Zemo keeps playing with his hair is reassuring, and what he says next puts Rogers completely at ease:

“I can fall, now.”

Rogers keeps exploring Zemo’s face softly and a bit clumsily, still a bit groggy, and smiles appreciatively at the German’s scarred face. Zemo smiles back at him, blushing slightly, and he captures Rogers’ wandering hand and intertwines their fingers:

“Go to back to sleep, Steven…” he commands fondly. They have time and Zemo isn’t going anywhere, Rogers can sleep off the anaesthetic.

Everything is in the open, now.

With a sigh, Captain America snuggles a little against Zemo’s legs, gives an affectionate squeeze to the hand holding his and closes his eyes. Zemo watches him for a while, until he leans back on the couch and decides to take a nap too.

Outside clouds gather in the sky and, little later, an insistent Summer rain pours down on the city. Zemo, sleeping lightly, hears the raindrops hammering the glass of the full-length and full-width windows of Rogers’ bedroom. Their closeness - Zemo sitting with Rogers lying on the couch and using his legs as a pillow, Zemo’s hand resting on Rogers’ stomach and his other hand holding Rogers’, their fingers intertwined – the companionable quietude between them and the comfortable couch make Zemo feel oddly cosy and give him a sense of belonging and purpose like he has never felt before. He allows himself to smile in his light sleep, imagining one day they’ll be doing this exact same thing – but Rogers won’t be injured and they won’t be at the Avengers Tower. No. They will be _home_.

Captain America sleeps for a couple of hours and wakes up with the sound of rain outside. He yawns and sighs lazily, and though the rising of his chest is still painful, the intensity of the pain has decreased significantly. The grogginess is gone, and Rogers blinks his eyes quickly and looks at Zemo, still asleep. Lying like this, Rogers can appreciate the angles of Zemo’s prominent jaw… and would also appreciate his strong neck and his Adam’s apple if not for the turtleneck.

Feeling watched, Zemo opens one eye and looks down at Captain America using his legs as a pillow:

“Better?” he asks, to which Rogers nods. They spend another moment in content silence, merely admiring each other, until Captain America feels brave enough to change to a sitting position – he still needs Zemo’s help, though.

But now they are sitting side by side, twisted just a little to face each other, knees touching and leaning into the other’s personal space. Rogers studies Zemo’s face attentively, memorizing every detail with military precision before finally allowing himself to stare wishfully at Zemo’s thin lips – the objective he had taken too long to find earlier, when Zemo had stood masked in front of him.

Carefully, Zemo bumps their foreheads together and, hesitantly, nuzzles his nose on Rogers’ – like his parents used to do, before the war. He wants this, needs this, shall have this.

They both do.

Yet the fire alarm goes berserk, startling them. The sudden jolt makes Rogers clutch to the middle of his chest and hiss in pain, and Zemo is at a loss of what to do: reach out for Rogers or see what caused the alarm to go off? Especially because, by the ruckus, it’s not just the alarm in Rogers’ bedroom: _it’s in the entire floor_. Praying that Whiplash hasn’t found them before Black Widow found him, Zemo jumps to his feet and strides to the door, barking an order over his shoulder at Rogers to stay in the room and not leave.

Peeking carefully into the corridor, Zemo becomes aware of the scent of burning appliances and notices dark smoke coming from the living room. Frowning, he closes the door behind him and stealthily makes his way along the corridor, muscles tensing in anticipation of a fight. The closer he gets, the more distinct becomes a lively argument.

Because Thor, in an attempt at making popcorn without using the microwave (in fear of breaking it), decided it was a great idea to conjure a lightning and burned almost the entire kitchen.

* * *

 

Whiplash was still lost in the desert and was both rescued and arrested by the Avengers – one threat less, and Iron Man grudgingly congratulates Zemo for thinking ahead and entrusting Black Widow with locating Whiplash.

Baron Zemo naïvely thinks this is it and now that they’re returning to the Avengers Tower, he and Rogers can pick things from where they left them the day before. Unfortunately, the moment he steps out of the Aven-Jet and intends to follow Rogers, he’s intercepted by the Hulk:

“We gotta talk, Sock-Face,” the Hulk announces. Captain America realises the Avengers are ganging around Zemo and stops, glancing over his shoulder with a frown. Tony smiles at him:

“Don’t worry, Steve! It’s just science stuff!”

Still narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Rogers proceeds his way to the lift.

And before Zemo knows it, he’s been dragged back into the jet and the door is closed:

“Time to plan a secret mission: Steve’s birthday is in two weeks!” Iron Man announces and sighs in defeat. “And Zemo, since you’re… sticking with us… you’re helping to prepare the party.”

“But… Steven doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday…” Zemo states, frowning.

The fourth of July is in _two weeks_ : it has been almost a year since Helmut Zemo made his own choice and was given an opportunity that brought him to a place he never thought he would be at.

“He doesn’t, but as his friends, it’s our sacred duty to give him a good time!” Tony shrugs, dismissing Zemo. “So, this year I’ll buy him a bigger cake than last year! Clint and Nat, you’re in charge of decorating the living room; Sam, you’ll fill the balloons-“

“Hulk wants to fill the balloons!!”

“-No, you and Thor are always busting them! Hulk and Thor, you’re going to distract Steve… and Zemo… you bake some German pastries to add to the cake.”

Baron Zemo blinks his eyes slowly, assimilating one of the most ridiculous things he has ever been told. Oh, were it not for Rogers’ birthday, and Zemo would tell Iron Man to bug off: _since when does a peasant tells a baron to bake pastries?????_

“I need help… to bake…” Zemo explains slowly: he can scramble eggs and make rice, but he needs a helping hand for more complex things. _Baking is complex_ , it’s a mix of culinary science and luck and Zemo is terrified of it.

The things he does for the man he wants by his side…

“I shall help you, friend Helmut!” Thor volunteers excitedly:

“Right: Thor and Zemo bake, the Hulk distracts Steve,” Then Tony narrows his eyes and points at Zemo. _“_ Don’t let Thor destroy the kitchen!”

When the Avengers and Zemo make it to the living quarters, Rogers is sitting at the kitchen isle, eating an apple, and arches an eyebrow at the group – _they were totally planning his birthday party, every year is the same thing_. Rogers sighs and his shoulders slump: he appreciates his friends’ efforts, really... he just doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday, it’s yet another reminder of what he lost.

Though last year he finally _gained_ something, something _his_ , something that now has little to do with the world of super-heroes, given how things between him and Zemo have developed.

And that… that is something Rogers is willing to celebrate.

Walking up to him, Zemo pulls off his mask:

“Shall we fence, Steven?” he invites, wanting to create an opportunity to be alone with Rogers and conclude what was started the day before.

Little later they are in the gym, fighting slowly so that Rogers’ recently healed injury won’t complain. Rogers is becoming a skilled swordsman, and Zemo beams with pride at every successful feint and attack from Captain America.

Despite being careful, about half an hour later Rogers stops and grimaces, rotating his shoulders in an attempt to disperse the pain – he hasn’t exercised his arms since the day before and fencing was a bad choice to get his muscles back to work again. His discomfort doesn’t go unnoticed by Zemo, who sheathes his sword and approaches Rogers, eager to help him, do anything to make him feel better:

“Allow me,” the German says softly, going to stand behind Rogers and placing both hands on Rogers’ large shoulders. Truth is… _Baron Zemo has no idea of how a massage works_ – he doesn’t even rub his own sore legs and arms, he simply waits for the pain to leave by its own. But he wants, from the bottom of his heart, to do something good for Rogers, and easing his shoulders a bit doesn’t sound like an impossible task.

Besides, Zemo has tried to make bread once – he was young and bored – and working muscles must be like kneading dough (even if Zemo’s dough never quite made it to bread or anything edible). With great enthusiasm, he starts to work, remembering the wonderful massage Rogers gave him and doing his best to reciprocate all that pleasure. Who knows, if he actually manages to make a proper massage now, he can always suggest Rogers to continue this in the bedroom.

However, Captain America knits his brows in discomfort at the rather brute ministrations on his shoulders. He immediately understands Zemo, despite his good intentions, has absolutely no idea of what he’s doing. Yet now Rogers knows better than interrupting Zemo when he’s trying to do good – it’s the main trigger for a useless argument, the situation that makes Helmut Zemo feel attacked and in need to defend himself, and Rogers doesn’t want more of that: no more useless arguing, no more defensive Baron Zemo, no more steps back. Captain America can stand this and, later, subtly bring up the subject and teach Zemo a few things he learned himself, by massaging his own legs and arms after rough trainings.

This is the strange scene Natasha and Hawkeye walk to: Rogers standing awkwardly in the middle of the gym and Zemo behind him, kneading his shoulders. Hawkeye shrieks and clamps his hands over his eyes, dramatically:

“Aw, _come on_!!! Why are you two so touchy-feely???” he cries in agony. “ _And why am I always walking on you???_ ”

Rogers blushes and shrinks slightly towards Zemo, who casts the new-arrived his mightiest frown and reddens in embarrassment: why are he and Rogers always getting interrupted????

Black Widow, however, is not impressed, merely studying the two super-soldiers. Then she sighs and proceeds towards the enclosed training area:

“You’re doing it wrong, Zemo… Too much pressure…” she informs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Zemo gasps, outraged, and immediately withdraws his hands from Rogers’ shoulders. He knows he’s not good at this, _he does not need to be told that_!!

“You dare!! How do you-“ he snarls, narrowing his eyes. But it’s Hawkeye, who follows Natasha into the enclosed training area, who answers:

“You just need to look at Cap’s face, Baron Dense: he’s not comfortable…”

Rogers groans and rubs his face with his palms: having his team-mates walking on them is the real issue here, not Zemo’s big and strong hands crushing his shoulder muscles. Nobody _ever_ comes to the gym this close to dinner time, why did someone have to show up now and do the one thing Rogers was so carefully avoiding?? With a sigh, Rogers turns around to look at Zemo, who’s staring at the enclosed training area, considering murder for having been interrupted _again_ – also, _Baron Zemo hates to have his mistakes pointed out to him, especially when he lacks expertise in what he’s doing_. Making mistakes is wrong and he can’t afford to commit them.

But more important than that, is that Rogers wasn’t enjoying what he was trying to give him.

It hurts, and Zemo looks back to Rogers, indignant, and opens his mouth to demand knowing _why_ nobody values his honest attempts at goodness. Fortunately, Captain America was already counting on this reaction, and speaks first:

“I appreciate your effort, Helmut. I _do_ ,” he says, firmly and honestly, and it makes Zemo clench his jaw again and frown. Since Zemo isn’t starting an argument, Rogers proceeds in a softer tone, holding one of Zemo’s arms gently. “Though it wasn’t great, I know the intention behind it is, and that means a lot to me,” Zemo’s frown dissolves to a pout and the German looks down.

That is… nice. Having Rogers seeing past his actions and understanding why he does it - without an argument and time apart and an apology brutally stripping them from their defenses. Baron Zemo is not used to this, to the patience and good will… and to have time to better himself. His father had always demanded him to _instantly_ improve, but Rogers isn’t like that. Rogers allows him to make mistakes, allows him to give him a crappy massage and not complain about it because he understands what Zemo is trying to do.

The pout is gone and Zemo sighs, looking up at Rogers again:

“The next one will be better,” he promises, making Rogers smile:

“I can teach you a few things, if you want…” he offers, and Zemo nods slowly, because he wants to properly appreciate Rogers, wants to reciprocate everything Rogers gives him. Then he smiles, all boyish and naughty and it makes Rogers chuckle in amusement:

“How about… teaching me now?”

“Sounds like a plan!”

With expectant but shy smiles, they leave the gym together, walking side by side and close to each other. Zemo is marveled at how avoiding an argument can present such great opportunities at intimacy, and registers that maybe he doesn’t need to be always so stressed about proving himself to Rogers.

They find Iron Man on the corridor, looking radiant:

“Guess what, there’s a new Italian restaurant in downtown! I booked us for dinner!” He narrows his eyes at Zemo. “For you, too…”

“How kind, thank you,” Zemo grunts, and he’s totally not being sarcastic…

“Great, now go dress something cool and we’re good to go!” Tony looks again at Rogers, all smiles and beaming joy. “I’ll just get Clint and Nat, and then after dinner we can all go to bowling!”

Whistling, Tony walks past them towards the gym, oblivious to the murderous glare Zemo casts at him and to the disappointed sigh that escapes Rogers lips.

Still, Captain America gives Zemo’s hand an affectionate squeeze and offers him a little smile:

“We’ll have plenty of time,” he promises, reassuring the two of them. Zemo looks at him and nods, understanding, then adopts a thoughtful expression:

“I have never played bowling before.”

“Really?” Rogers smiles, teasing, and Zemo can’t keep a straight face with a smile like that being offered to him. “I spent seventy years in ice, but you’re the one who missed the fun stuff?”

“I have time, now,” the German replies, raising an eyebrow suggestively and making Rogers laugh with feeling.

Sometime later the Avengers and Zemo are leaving the tower to the restaurant. Despite the ruined massage lesson, Rogers and Zemo are still looking forward to spend the evening out and enjoy a nice dinner and a bowling game – even with the rest of the team providing zero moments of quietude and chances at intimacy… but friends are important. Rogers already knows that, while Zemo is just getting started on the subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, these idiots are finally going somewhere! :'D
> 
> Feedback is always treasured, please let me know what you think!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooooo, thank you all for your support!!!!
> 
> And finally, after so many ups and downs, these idiots get to be 100%. happy... at least, for now! >:D

Rogers wants to read all these PDF files of Hydra intel, he truly does – but the night before they returned so late he went immediately to sleep, and now Zemo, standing behind him, is doing wonders to his neck: though still a bit brutish, there has been a massive improvement.

Yes, because Zemo has had better things to do than sleeping – like spending the rest of the night in the Internet, looking up massage tips. He still wants to learn from Rogers, it’s just that _Baron Zemo is_ _always one step ahead_ _and it’s totally not a matter of honour to prove Rogers he can do good things to him._

And by the way Rogers shivers and moans at times, Zemo’s lost night of sleep is paying off. With a victorious little smile, Zemo is pretty sure that at any moment Rogers will shut down the laptop and move from the throne-like chair to Zemo’s bed to properly appreciate the massage being given to him.

A knock on the door of Zemo’s bedroom has the two of them sighing in disappointment, but still Zemo pretends he didn’t hear and continues his ministrations on Rogers’ neck:

“We need to get out of this tower, Steven…” the German complains, making Rogers glance over his shoulder and smile:

“Riding on horseback?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Another knock on the door, more insistent, and then Hawkeye’s voice:

“If you don’t open right now, I’m calling the Hulk to bust the door!!”

With an annoyed grunt, Zemo allows his fingers to linger just a little more on Rogers’ skin, then grudgingly goes to open the door. He intends to open just enough to slip his head through the opening and stare daggers at Hawkeye, but instead it’s the archer’s head that pops in the bedroom. And oh, Clint has the smuggest of grins:

“Ha, I’ve been wanting to know how your room looks like for a while!” he chants victoriously, looking around, not even aware that, if Zemo wants to – and god, _Baron Zemo wants to, so badly_ – slide the door shut again, Hawkeye is probably ending up seriously injured… or beheaded for good. “Christ, someone’s very cheerful… oh, hi there, Cap!”

“Hawkeye,” Rogers acknowledges, looking from the screen to Hawkeye’s head peeking at the door, feeling extremely grateful about still having his t-shirt on:

“Why is there a Zemo sticker on your laptop, Zemo?”

“It is signalling property of Zemo!”

“Whatever. We need to talk,” And Hawkeye’s head disappears through the opening. Rolling his eyes, Zemo puts on his boots, promises Rogers he won’t take long and leaves the bedroom.

Hawkeye is waiting for him in the corridor, and together they make their way to the living room:

“Your room’s really depressing…” Clint comments:

“So is your face,” Zemo retorts.

Baron Zemo still doesn’t know how bickering went from nuisance to routine.

The Avengers are gathered in the living room, sitting comfortably on the couches. Zemo and Hawkeye join them, sitting next to Thor and the Hulk. Tony, presiding the meeting, clears his throat and shows them all the hologram of a large and round five-layer cake with the colours of the American flag and decorated with white stars:

“I’m thinking about ordering a cake like this for Steve, what do you guys think?” he asks, visibly proud of himself. Everyone nods in agreement and the Hulk licks his lips expectantly. “Great. How about the pastries: Zemo, what are you going to bake?”

“Leipziger Lerchen,” Zemo replies proudly, and Thor slaps his back enthusiastically:

“We shall bake delicious pastries for our friend Steve!”

“Without destroying the kitchen…” Tony remarks, but he’s positive Zemo can control Thor’s enthusiasm. “Great: I’ll order the ingredients and you two bake some dozens of those Leip… Leipzeg… Moving on: gifts! What are we giving Steve this year??”

“A knife!” Zemo suggests:

“Cap doesn’t like knives,” Falcon states. “How about… a new flag? The one he has is pretty old!”

“A horn!” Thor exclaims, spreading his arms dramatically:

“Steven doesn’t drink…” Zemo says:

“A book about military stuff,” the Hulk suggests wisely, and Zemo is always surprised by how the green monster can be reasonable.

* * *

 

“Property of Zemo, hm?” Rogers teases when the German returns to the bedroom. Captain America is pretty sure Zemo was summoned by the Avengers for a _secret meeting about Rogers’ birthday_ , but doesn’t bring up the subject.

The sticker on Zemo’s laptop is a relatively large rectangle, all purple with a single-headed white eagle, looking left and with spread wings, standing proudly in the middle. Rogers knows this isn’t a depiction of the Zemo coat of arms, but it’s still hilarious how such a simplistic representation clearly makes Baron Zemo extremely proud of it.

“You have seen it before and have never commented it…” Zemo grunts and toes off his boots again. Rogers just laughs, turning his attention back to the PDF file he’s currently reading:

“I never thought it as a ‘Property of Zemo’-sticker. I honestly thought it was a random sticker from one of your cousins,” Rogers chuckles as the German, sighing in exasperation, comes to stand behind him again and resumes the massage. “What does it mean, Helmut? The eagle on purple.”

If there is one thing that a Zemo loves talking about more than _himself,_ it’s about his great lineage. In another situation, Rogers could have buckled up for a long, long history of the Zemo family, its’ origins, its’ brilliant barons, the estate in Leipzig, the wealth, and so on; fortunately for Rogers, Helmut Zemo is currently more interested in giving him an enjoyable massage, and for that will refrain his basic need of talking about the Zemo lineage and simply answer to what he was asked:

“The eagle symbolises courage, strength, perspicacity and immortality. The purple stands for an amethyst gem and for temperance, justice and sovereignty,” Zemo’s tone is a mixture of pure delight and arrogance, but Rogers gives it little importance. He’s genuinely interested:

“You have amethysts in your sword. And an amethyst ring,” Rogers remembers the gala last month, remembers noticing a large signet ring and an amethyst band on Zemo’s index finger. He had assumed it had something to do with nobility and hadn’t been wrong. With a satisfied sigh, Rogers closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying he massage on his neck. “Also… riding on horseback tomorrow?”

“We should prepare something edible to take,” Zemo’s hands go still on Rogers’ shoulders, weighting comfortably. “We need to go shopping.”

A visit to the German supermarket in Brooklyn is imminent.

Rogers closes the PDF file and shuts down Zemo’s laptop. The retrieved intel are lists of weaponry and reports about its performance, and though the numbers and fire-power are impressive, Rogers considers it’s not enough to lead him to break his promise of keeping it to himself. He turns on Zemo’s throne-like chair slightly, to look up at the German:

“Do you have a leather jacket?”

Zemo thinks it an odd question, especially because outside the day is excruciatingly hot. Still he nods, and moments later, after putting on his boots again, Rogers leads him to the garage on the ground floor and the reason for the leather jacket becomes obvious: Captain America rides quite a big bike.

With an extremely pleased smile, Rogers hands Zemo a spare helmet while putting on his own helmet, then sits on the bike and glances over his shoulder, looking expectantly to the German who, without hesitation, sits closely behind him and holds his hips with both hands. Rogers feels a shiver up his spine at how firmly Zemo is holding him and presses slightly against Zemo, earning a slight gasp from him. Blushing heavily but smiling widely, Rogers looks ahead again and starts the engine. He likes to go shopping with Zemo in the German supermarket in Brooklyn, but this time, that they’re going on Rogers’ bike, they can take the chance and go for a tour in the outskirts of the city, enjoy some time alone in peace and quiet.

And Rogers wants to properly appreciate the sight of Baron Zemo in a full-face helmet, leather bomber jacket, cargo pants and combat boots. He’s about to request F.R.I.D.A.Y. to open the garage door when the AI speaks, calmly:

“Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff requests your presence in the conference room.”

“We’re going shopping, F.R.I.D.A.Y.!” Rogers complains, immediately having a bad feeling about why Natasha needs to talk to him:

“Agent Romanoff says it’s extremely urgent.”

* * *

 

So Baron Zemo ends up at the kitchen isle, taking out his frustrations by smashing with the fork the boiled potatoes in his plate: Rogers is gone for a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission with Black Widow, communications with the team are not allowed, and is only coming back on his birthday. Something about a terrorist weapons-manufacturer in China. So much for their plans to get away from the Avengers Tower and be on their own for a while…

 The Hulk, Hawkeye and Thor are sitting with him, enjoying their take-out Mexican food and feeling a mixture of amusement and pity for Zemo’s disappointment:

“We can go ride together in Asgard!” Thor says after a while, hoping to comfort his friend:

“We can dress up as Cap, if you want!” Clint bursts out laughing at the thought, banging his fist on the table. Zemo just hides his face on his hands, having a momentary brain meltdown thanks to the mental image of Clint’s words. “Maybe you should put a Zemo sticker on Steve’s forehead! I’m not sure Tony would like it, though…” Narrowing his eyes in thought, Hawkeye allows his mind to divagate on the subject “Maybe he’d make an Iron Man sticker, larger than the Zemo sticker, and cover yours…” Indeed, the thought of Captain America with a sticker on his forehead is hilarious and Hawkeye bursts out laughing again:

“It is not a «Zemo sticker»!!!” Claiming Rogers like that sounds… _ridiculous, but not horrible_ :

“What’s a Zemo sticker?” the Hulk asks curiously, emptying his box of food directly into his mouth. While Baron Zemo, a nobleman so full of manners and etiquette, tries to figure out since when he’s not disgusted by sitting at the table with these brutish companions, Hawkeye happily tells the Hulk and Thor about Zemo’s dim bedroom and the sticker on his laptop.

Zemo pouts, now poking at the sausages in his plate while the three Avengers laugh of his sticker:

“If we take a pink sock and duct-tape it somewhere, does it count as a Zemo sticker, too?” the Hulk muses, grinning and making Hawkeye choke on his drink.

The next morning, when Tony crawls out of the lab to chug down his early dose of coffee, he finds Clint and the Hulk duct-taping paper-sheets (badly painted with purple crayons and featuring a poorly drawn white eagle) to Zemo’s stool at the kitchen isle, to his shelf in the pantry, to his various items in the fridge and to his usual spot on the couch.

* * *

 

Baron Zemo never had friends in his whole life: he was home-schooled until the age of ten, when he was sent to NPEA Oranienstein, in what was once the Prussian province of Hesse-Nassau, with strict orders from his father to be the best – to achieve that, young Helmut Zemo never befriended any of his colleagues in the Napola; he left at eighteen for another year of home-schooling to prepare him for college and, in college, he did not even think about making friends anymore – he was too busy studying, and running the family estate, and working for Hydra, and mourning his recently deceased father.

Now Zemo finds himself touring Asgard on horseback, led by an overly excited god; or training archery with Hawkeye; or destroying training robots with the Hulk. Having constant company like this, always chatting and doing something, is a bit overwhelming sometimes for a man used to be on his own and trusting nobody. But despite the annoyed sighs and exasperated eye-rolls, Baron Zemo enjoys this regular attention, the friendly bickering and the acceptance in the group.

He also goes often to one of Iron Man’s workshops, to work on his own weapons and be of assistance to Tony – between grunts and snarls they actually make progress with Kang’s tech; most times Falcon is there, monologuing excitedly about going on vacation with his mother, in August, and while Tony challenges him to exchange fun for work, Zemo counsels the younger Avenger to make the best of the little free time he has for family.

Yet time goes by excruciatingly slowly, and by no means the fourth of July approaches with the speed Zemo wants. On the bright side, his family is talking to him again, and chatting with them via Skype throughout the night helps to keep him distracted from the vacant room across his.

When the third of July finally arrives, Zemo is carried effortlessly by the Hulk from the gym to the kitchen, where Thor is waiting excitedly, in civil clothes, to bake the German pastries:

“Cap’s not here to be distracted, so Hulk wants to help in the kitchen!!” Clapping his hands in enthusiasm, the Hulk waits impatiently for Zemo’s command to start baking.

Zemo’s shoulders slump in dismay as he’s not so sure about the kitchen’s well-being anymore. With a sigh, Zemo picks up his mobile, searches for the recipe online and starts to instruct Thor and the Hulk on assembling the ingredients.

Baron Zemo, born to greatness and destined to lead, is now in control of the baking process: translating the recipe, barking at Thor to not make a mess with the flour and snarling at the Hulk not to smash the eggs, stressing at every centimeter of counter top that grows dirty – the bitter thought that he truly is the peak of the Zemo lineage and what his father would think of him cross Zemo’s mind for a moment, before laughter and ruckus announce the arrival of Clint, Falcon, decorations and balloons. It’s a time for celebration and everyone’s happy – and wanting to include him in their happiness: months ago, Zemo would be locked in his bedroom to avoid the Avengers’ Christmas carols, and now he’s part of Operation Cap’s Birthday.

* * *

 

“I must admit: you did a pretty good job in keeping the kitchen safe, Zemo!” Tony compliments, signalling to the Hulk where to put the gigantic birthday cake that was just delivered – right in the middle of the kitchen isle, surrounded by dozens of freshly-baked Leipziger Lerchen that Zemo ordered Falcon to guard and protect with his life.

Because Baron Zemo, sunken in his spot on the couch and sipping slowly at a large mug of tea, is feeling oddly exhausted and the Hulk’s laughter echoing in his head is starting to give him a headache. So Zemo merely grunts in response to Iron Man’s statement.

_He is never cooking with someone who isn’t Steve Rogers ever again._

“And those muffins smell really good…” Across Zemo, Hawkeye lurks at the pastries with too much interest for Zemo’s liking, and the German summons enough strength to throw a cushion at the archer, who yelps and rolls dramatically to the floor:

“Those are not muffins…” Zemo grunts, sipping at his tea again and sinking further in the couch. He could really use a massage, now…

All the Avengers hope that Rogers will be back in the morning, so that they can finally eat the birthday cake and the pastries. Zemo, however, misses Rogers deeply and this, together with the lack of sleep, the shenanigans he gets dragged into and now the commotion in the kitchen, is finally taking a toll on him. He’s already used to enjoying Rogers’ affection regularly, and now that he has spent all these days without it, he feels somewhat unbalanced and moody.

He feels… _lonely_ , despite finally having friends within the Avengers.

Chugging down the rest of the tea, Zemo stands up and goes to the kitchen to wash the mug, wipe it dry and store it in the cupboard again. Then he retreats to his bedroom, hoping to get some rest. He exits the living room quietly and crosses the corridor with large strides, despite feeling tired.

He’s given up glowering at the «Zemo sticker» mockery that Clint duct-taped to his bedroom door and opens the door, only to nearly jump out of his skin when he feels a hand on his shoulder:

“You appear to be unwell, Helmut,” Turning around, Zemo finds Thor looking at him, concerned, having returned from his own bedroom after changing his flour-covered t-shirt for a clean one. “What is the matter?”

“I am simply tired,” The German shrugs, dismissive, but that only makes Thor tilt his head to the side and study him for a moment. Then the Asgardian smiles, understanding, and gives a vigorous squeeze to Zemo’s shoulder:

“You miss the Captain,” The menacing narrowing of violet eyes just makes Thor’s smile widen. “We all miss him, but I understand you two became close. I am glad you changed and that now we are all friends, Helmut!”

Indeed, it’s a good thing Zemo _changed plans_. And maybe this time, besides Captain America, perhaps Thor, Hawkeye and the Hulk will want to tag along for another Hydra hunt. Yes, it’s good that Baron Zemo has friends now – it will be much easier to disband the Avengers.

* * *

 

Zemo sleeps only for a few hours and spends the rest of the time reading, until finally it’s the morning of the fourth of July.

Rogers will return at any moment.

Feeling restless and unable to focus on his reading any longer, Zemo eats a quick breakfast and goes to the gym to lift weights, waiting expectantly for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to announce Rogers’ return.

Yet hours go by and Captain America and Black Widow still have not arrived to the tower. Zemo grudgingly joins the other Avengers for lunch and realises they too are getting impatient – fortunately, for the time being, the cake and pastries on the kitchen isle are forgotten.  Tony is the one who shows more anxiety about the missing super-heroes and, when he’s done with his pizza, he starts walking in circles in the space between the kitchen isle and the living room.

Thor decides a session of gaming will make everything better, but Zemo prefers to go back to the gym and continue to lift weights - always expecting to hear Rogers’ arriving to the living room and finding his birthday party waiting for him, growing disappointed at every passing minute of silence. Lifting weights becomes useless to tame Zemo’s restlessness and make him focus, and maybe Thor is right about gaming…

With a resigned sigh, Zemo goes back to the living room and leans on the back of the couch, waiting for Hawkeye or Thor to lose the game and take their place. In the kitchen, Tony is making himself an ungodly amount of coffee, despite Falcon’s advice on how he should be drinking tea instead.

Finally, F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces an incoming call from Captain America.

“Problems in Sleepy Hollow. Need backup. Bring Doctor Strange,” it’s all Rogers says, with great urgency, and ends the call abruptly.

* * *

 

“Is Sleepy Hollow really a town? Not merely a setting for the book?” Zemo is genuinely confused:

“No more literature!” Iron Man complains, piloting the jet. Next to him sits Doctor Strange, whose brow is furrowed in deep thought. Zemo, holding to the back of Thor’s seat, misses deeply having Rogers’ support and is upset by Tony’s reply to his question and about the others’ indifference. He’s also tired and is quite done having life thwarting his plans – first his revenge, now his dates with Rogers – and the Avengers brace themselves, a tantrum is coming.

Especially because, if Strange is involved, then they are going to face some supernatural enemy… and Baron Zemo knows the Avengers are uncomfortable about the subject:

“I wonder what is waiting for us… The Headless Horseman, perhaps?” he muses maliciously:

“Oh, come on…” Clint groans. “You’ve been doing good, don’t just ruin it now!!”

“Did you know the Headless Horseman is German?” Zemo proceeds:

“That explains why he’s such a pain in the arse…” Tony sighs, annoyed, and he misses having Rogers around to handle Zemo’s moods: the Avengers still haven’t figured out what turns the German from a relatively pleasant company to a nasty piece of work in the blink of an eye. Clint bursts out laughing and Zemo narrows his eyes, but continues his monologue:

“The interesting is that Irving wrote the story while traveling through Europe, and headless horsemen are a recurrent theme in Northern European folklore… for example, the Wild Hunts, very popular in German legends,” He stops, savouring the moment, and if only the Avengers had answered his initial question he would have spared them the lecture. “The hunters are either supernatural beings or the dead, and their sighting is a portent of doom. There is this poem-“

Zemo goes on and on, and the super-heroes are indeed uneasy with the thought that maybe they’re going to find something… out of this world.

Finally, after a short flight – very uncomfortable, thanks to Zemo and German folklore – the Avengers catch glimpses of a fight: a S.H.I.E.L.D. jet crashed on the trees of the nearby woods, civilians running in a panic from the cemetery and battle-cries in the outskirts. Iron Man lands the jet just outside the cemetery and the Avengers, Doctor Strange and Zemo run outside, cross the cemetery and reach the fields across it.

“Oh, _come on_!!!” Clint whines, jumping over a tombstone and finally seeing what Captain America and Black Widow are fighting with great difficulty.

Headless horsemen. Dozens of them, clad in black and riding black horses, wielding swords and axes and…

“Is that a mace?” Falcon asks with wide eyes. Zemo runs past him, sword in a hand and in the other a pistol:

“Kettenmorgenstern!” he informs, shooting at an incoming horseman, who simply turns the targeted area into smoke and goes back to normal shape again.

“That’s why people don’t like you!!” Iron Man complains, shooting at the horsemen and flying to where Rogers and Widow are trying to fight while avoiding the horses’ hooves.

Doctor Strange understands immediately something is off about these horsemen – they are not solid, not ghouls and probably not spirits… he needs to see what is the source of this phenomena and destroy it; otherwise, fighting these shadows is useless. Frowning, he hovers graciously above the fray, towards the woods from where the horsemen come charging.

Unfortunately for the Avengers, these opponents are pretty solid when they are attacking. Rogers has already been trampled down twice by the horses, but was able to protect himself with his shield. Hawkeye is at a loss of what to do, unable to aim properly and choose the most fitting arrows because the horsemen chase him around. The Hulk can’t smash because horsemen and horses dissolve to smoke at the first impact and Thor’s hammer and lightning are useless against them for that same reason.

Iron Man lands next to Rogers and Natasha, shooting beams at the horsemen circling them to keep them away:

“What happened?” Tony asks. A horseman comes dangerously close and swings its axe at Tony’s head. The blade, however, is deflected by Rogers’ shield:

“The radar in the jet signaled an open dimensional portal in the area, and when we arrived-“ Natasha rolls to the side, avoiding a horse. “-there were a few of these guys horsing around, then some more, and more…”

Captain America lifts his shield above his head to protect himself from the spiked balls of a chain mace. He looks around quickly, assessing the situation, and sees Zemo some meters ahead, dodging a sword and reaching out to a horseman’s leg to pull the creature off the saddle – but all he grabs is smoke that escapes through his fingers. Rogers misses the German and wants to walk over to him, be sure he’s alright, but there are more pressing matters at hand, now.

Suddenly, horses and riders vanish into thick black smoke, and shortly after Doctor Strange is tossed from the woods. Tony catches him before he falls flat on his back, and the responsible for all this comes from the among the trees.

Loki, and he is not pleased. He had this great, perfect plan to wreak havoc with the aid of shadows, but for that he needed a portal to allow them from the shadow realm into the world – Doctor Strange closed something that will take time to be open again, and now Loki needs to deal with the Avengers before returning his attention back to the portal:

“I take it you did not like my contribution to the local lore,” he snarls, pointing menacingly with his staff at the intruders. “Pity, the signal at the village was quite inspiring…”

Strange conjures a protective shield right on time to save them from a blast coming from Loki’s staff. Zemo is slightly confused, especially by the way that Thor, standing next to him, is staring at this foe:

“Who is this?” Zemo eventually asks the Asgardian, who looks at him with a grim expression:

“My brother.”

Zemo doesn’t have time to be surprised; Loki’s magic is stronger than Strange’s and destroys the shield, projecting Zemo and the super-heroes to the ground and against nearby trees. With another gesture of the staff, the group is tossed through the air once again, colliding with each other – Zemo feels envious of Iron Man, who knocks against Rogers while the German is violently sent face-first against the Hulk.

“Let us try again… I am quite amused with the concept of a headless horseman!” Loki laughs and points his staff at each of the super-heroes, groaning in pain and trying to push themselves up from the ground. But Doctor Strange is left for last and merely imprisoned in a force field, then Loki walks back into the woods, convinced his problem has been solved.

The Avengers shakily stand up, only to dodge and attack invisible enemies… but with disastrous consequences: Hawkeye’s arrow hits the Hulk, Thor strikes Rogers, whose shield narrowly misses Zemo and hits Black Widow instead, who shoots laser beams at Falcon, avoiding an invisible attack and knocking against Iron Man.

Zemo simply stands still, looking with narrowed eyes at the confusion unfolding before him. It must be some sort of mind control, but Zemo doesn’t know how to break it. The caged sorcerer probably knows, so Zemo runs to him and tries to break the force field with the vibrational energy of his sword:

“It’s the staff!” Strange explains, pointing at where Loki went to. “Asgardian magic, I can’t undo it! How are you not affected?”

The circuitry band around Zemo’s head, that protects him from psychic attacks. The Avengers must have been induced in some form of illusion to battle invisible foes and inadvertently trouble each other.

With Strange trapped and trying his best to break the force field, it’s up to Zemo to face Loki on his own. And show Captain America his worth. And _save_ him.

Zemo runs to the woods, stealthily, his booted feet treading carefully over branches and dead leaves, peeking from behind the trees before proceeding. He finds Loki in a small clearing, drawing runes on a large stone with chalk. His back is turned at Zemo, and the German advances, slowly and carefully, with his sword lifted to the side for a cutting blow. Zemo approaches, step by step. Loki keeps drawing runes.

Holding his breath, Zemo lifts his sword just a little more for better balance and, with one final stride, Loki’s within reach.

But the god of mischief turns around suddenly and with a gesture of his hand, Zemo is thrown against a nearby pine. The impact knocks the air out of his lungs and the German falls to the ground, on his face, gasping for air. He’s still holding his sword, though – years of training have taught him to never let it go.

“Why are you not fighting what is not there?” Loki asks curiously, approaching Zemo. Actually, Loki doesn’t even know who this man is – a new Avenger, perhaps? And slightly tougher than the others, it seems – yet, this is merely a man while Loki is a god. “You will pay for your insolence, mortal! How treacherous, to attack me from behind!”

Loki stops next to Zemo, who’s still gasping for air and trying to push himself up, struggling to breathe and balance himself on his knees and arms. With a victorious smirk, Loki reaches out for Zemo… only to yelp and step back abruptly, rubbing frenetically at his eyes – the god of mischief just had dirt thrown at his eyes.

With a malicious smile, Zemo jumps to his feet while clicking one of the buttons on his belt, the one that allows him to manipulate vibrational energy, and the blade of his sword glows red. Indeed, Baron Zemo is a great pretender and is very proud to admit he fights dirty. Mercilessly, he slashes at the staff in Loki’s hand, cutting the top of it like he was beheading an opponent, and then manoeuvres the sword again to strike Loki.

Still rubbing his eyes and letting out a wrathful snarl, Loki dodges the blade and waves his hand, sending Zemo crashing against a tree again. But the German still doesn’t let go of his sword and charges towards Loki:

“I am no mere mortal!” Zemo roars, but when his sword comes down to cut Loki, he’s gone and re-appears again behind the German, who turns around in time to throw himself to the side and roll, avoiding being tossed through the air again. “I am Baron Helmut Zemo the Thirteenth!”

Baron or not, this man has destroyed Loki’s magic staff and shall pay for that. Discarding the remains of the staff, Loki raises both hands, lifting Zemo in the air:

“You are a dead man!” Loki snarls, clawing his fingers and preparing to snap Zemo’s neck with a gesture of his hands.

Yet something – hard and heavy and that definitely feels like Mjolnir – hits his back, sending him across the clearing face-first into a large shrub. Zemo falls on the ground with a huff while the Avengers come running to help him and imprison Loki. The ground shakes heavily as the Hulk leaps around, roaring.

Rogers immediately kneels next to Zemo and rests a hand on his shoulder:

“Are you injured?” he asks worriedly, and all he wants is to rip off Zemo’s mask and take him in his arms, hold him close, kiss him. The amount of time they spent apart was unfair and Rogers wants them to make up for it.

“Bruised, probably…” And Zemo wants to add that he needs a massage, but that is something to talk about privately, and not with that mayhem of super-heroes around them. He wants to pull Rogers into a tight embrace, persuade him through every pleasurable means to never leave like this again, but all he does is pushing Captain America away when Loki is tossed at them and lands on his back.

The god of mischief is baffled, looking around with wide eyes at the Avengers circling him. Then he sees the man with the pink mask and golden headband, the one that dared defy him and who arrogantly tried to be a worthy opponent.

That man shall pay.

Before Thor can reach out to him to hold him, Loki snaps his fingers and vanishes, casting a last hateful look at Zemo.

* * *

 

Leaving Doctor Strange behind to make sure the portal is indeed closed and that nothing besides shadows crawled out of it, the Avengers and Zemo return to the tower, tired and sore and commenting about the enemies Loki made them see – headless horsemen again:

“Why were you immune to it, Zemo?” Natasha asks, doing her best to not sound suspicious because, logically, Baron Zemo can’t know every bad guy in the universe and team up with them, Loki included… right?

“Circuitry,” Zemo replies proudly and casts a look full of superiority at Tony Stark, looking at him with a frown and crossed arms – _Baron Zemo has just saved Captain America again…_ and probably the world too, but that feels quite meaningless. Especially because Rogers has done nothing besides praising Zemo for his bravery on facing Loki on his own, and touch his shoulders and arms. Zemo replies to the touching discreetly, all of a sudden feeling his energies restored and in a great mood.

There is just one more obstacle until Baron Zemo has Rogers’ full attention: _the birthday party_.

Rogers beams and smiles widely at his friends when they all make their way into the living room. The whole space is decorated with blue, red and white balloons and ribbons, and the food on the kitchen isle remains intact. Many arms reach out for Rogers to hug him and slap him on the back, everyone wishes him a happy birthday and Hawkeye jokes about it being Independence Day. The Hulk has reached out for the bags on confetti abandoned on the couch and is now throwing confetti everywhere.

The last person hugging Rogers is Zemo, and the hug between them lasts just a little bit longer than what it did between Rogers and Tony, and there’s more strength and closeness in it, too. Tony notices it and narrows his eyes, not happy at all about _Baron Zemo_ being closer than him to Captain America – yet none of the others see it, too busy getting drinks from the fridge and filling glasses and lighting the candle on top of Rogers’ birthday cake.

Rogers doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday, but this year… it feels special. Standing on a stool to comfortably reach the top of the huge cake and blow the candle, he looks around at the people gathered around him, singing him happy birthday and clapping their hands. His friends, his family.

Zemo included.

Rogers blows the candle and picks it up to bite it and make a wish.

Then he slices the several layers of his birthday cake, gives everyone a slice and finally jumps to the floor, smiling from ear to ear, and casts a curious look at the dozens of pastries surrounding the cake:

“What are these?” he asks, having a feeling a rather talented German baron is behind it:

“Leipziger Lecker!” Thor explains excitedly, raising his glass of cola victoriously. “Helmut, the Hulk and I baked them for you!”

“They baked, I supervised,” Zemo explains with a toothy grin. “And these are called _Leipziger Lerchen_ , though they are indeed _lecker_ (delicious)…”

“You make the worst puns…” Hawkeye comments from across the kitchen isle, with his mouth full of cake.

Pizza is ordered for dinner. While they wait, the Hulk gives Rogers the birthday gift, Rogers and Natasha share about their mission in China and Clint brags about his very artistic «Zemo stickers».

They have dinner watching a movie, then indulge in more cake and pastries, until finally the Avengers, tired and stuffed with food, start to disappear to their bedrooms to shower and get some rest. Much for Zemo’s dismay, waiting patiently to finally have Rogers all for himself, Tony seems to be particularly insistent in staying next to Rogers and chat nonstop with him.

But it’s fine – Baron Zemo has made a promise of being more patient and he has every intention to keep his word. So he takes his time to tidy up the kitchen a bit, put all the dishes and cutlery in the washer, store the left-over cake and pastries in the fridge, make a cup of tea for himself and drink it slowly while talking to his cousin Klaus on the phone, walking back and forth in the living room, speaking rather loudly just to annoy Tony.

Tony Stark, however, is a stubborn man… and heck, he’s going to enjoy the company of his best friend with or without a German dialect in the background! And eventually, Tony’s persistence pays off: Zemo clearly runs out of subject to talk to with his cousin and, casting a murderous glare at Iron Man, strides out of the living room.

Yet Tony can’t enjoy victory for long: some minutes later Rogers yawns, excusing himself and stating he needs a bath urgently and a proper night of sleep, but promises that they’ll catch up the next day. He feels bad escaping from Tony like that… _but Rogers must be with Zemo._

It has been too long since they were together. Too long since they had time to enjoy each other’s company, be close. And Rogers wants it, needs it. He intends to knock on the door of Zemo’s bedroom, but the moment he walks into the corridor, he can hear the familiar sounds of a punchbag under attack.

Rogers finds Zemo in the gym, masked again. The German, despite the violent blows he applies on the punchbag, moves slower than usual and takes a few brief breaks between attacks, giving out he’s tired. Zemo is starting to feel it all again, the exhaustion, the mood swings, and he can only hope that taking out his frustrations in a punchbag will ease him back to that blissful state he experimented earlier with Rogers, after the fight with Loki.

Zemo has been waiting all these days to be alone with Rogers again and it’s simply unfair that he doesn’t have a chance to hold him in his arms, bask in his warmth, finish what they started. Though Rogers had been bolder lately, Zemo was still afraid he would rush thing too much, that in the end they wouldn’t be prepared to be more intimate – now, at each blow he lands on the punchbag, he regrets his hesitation and curses himself for being such a coward.

Also, Iron Man is totally to blame for this, stalling Rogers like a needy nuisance and keeping him away from Zemo…

“Helmut?”

Turning around so quickly, Zemo misses the punchbag, loses his balance and stumbles to the side a little, reaching out to the ropes around the boxing ring to hold himself. Rogers laughs, but his laughter is nervous and he crosses his arms protectively in front of his chest. Rather too eagerly for a man of his position, Baron Zemo exits the boxing ring and comes to stand in front of Rogers, chest rising and falling quickly due to exercise and expectation.

Carefully, like he hadn’t been in such a hurry moments before, Zemo rests both hands over Rogers’ shoulders:

“Ich hab’ dich vermisst…” Zemo mutters, and he wants to pull Rogers close before F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces some old lady is trying to cross the street and the Avengers need to go and help her:

“I missed you, too,” Rogers smiles, his face worryingly red, and he covers Zemo’s hands with his. He looks around and inspects the gym with minutious glances, then looks back to Zemo. “Thank you… for baking the pastries. I know you don’t like cooking.”

“Technically, I did not bake.”

“Still…” Rogers pauses, a look of determination erasing his smile. He squares his shoulders, like he usually does when accepting a mission that brings great responsibility – which isn’t at all far from the truth. “I… It’s my birthday…” Rogers flinches a little at his choice of words, considering them ridiculous the moment they’re out. But he’s not backing off, now. Not after being separated from Zemo for another week, leaving unfinished business between them again. Hopefully that stops today, and that is the only thing Rogers can do – hope Zemo is as sure and ready as he is.

He clears his throat:

“And because it’s my birthday… I… I’d like something from you,” he finishes bravely. He’s holding Zemo’s hands in an iron grip without even realising, but Zemo doesn’t complain. He merely nods, afraid his voice might fail him.

The German is still wearing his mask, and Rogers doesn’t like it… but maybe it will be for the best. The mask will keep it chaste, controlled. Taking in a deep breath, Rogers leans forwards, but just his torso, not wanting to trap Zemo against him. Captain America already knows where his target lies, though he had only one good chance to study the theatre of operations.

Slowly, he leans just a bit more, until his lips press a hopefully innocent kiss over Zemo’s masked lips. Rogers takes no more than three seconds, then withdraws immediately, holding his breath and waiting for the final verdict.

Their hearts want to hammer their way out of their chests.

It takes a moment – feels awfully long, terrifying, and Rogers is ready to apologise – then Zemo tilts his head:

“I can give you better than that, Steven,” he says, sounding almost indignant at how careful Rogers was. He intends to pull off his mask, but Rogers holds his hands firmly and smiles nervously:

“Let me.”

His hand shakes a little when he reaches out to hook two fingers under Zemo’s mask and pull it off, slowly – Rogers remembers doing it once, remembers it felt oddly exciting, and now it feels even more. He’s met by Zemo’s impassive, heavily blushed face, and only the blown pupils betray just how much Baron Zemo wants this.

If their hearts didn’t free themselves before, they’re about to do it now.

The mask is finally off and Zemo leans forwards, maybe a bit too eagerly, and presses his lips on Rogers’. He plans to keep it simple, innocent, _paced_.

He fails.

The feeling of Rogers’ lips is intoxicating, nerve-wrecking, and he’s not in control of himself anymore. He pulls Rogers close, pressing their lips harder, humming, and feels Rogers’ arms snake around his waist, secure him in place with strength and determination, hears him sigh in delight. He cups Rogers’ face, breathing his air, and something fires up, a rush of adrenaline more powerful than everything he has experienced before – battles and fights, imminent danger, stress, the thrill of pulling the trigger and cutting with his sword. He feels Rogers’ lips returning all the pressure, feels him exhaling more air for him to breathe, feels Rogers’ fingers digging into his flesh and clutch to him for dear life. Their bodies join, standing impossibly close.

It’s exhilarating… and terrifying. Now that Zemo has tasted it, he can’t bear the thought of never having it again, of being undeserving of this. And the doubt raises, crawling slowly from a dark place to gnaw at Zemo’s confidence and resolution, clawing at him to further hurt him the moment Rogers’ lips aren’t in contact with Zemo’s anymore.

But then there they are again, this time pressing softly on the scar on the corner of Zemo’s mouth – but the German is terrified and does not dare to name the evident feelings carried by Rogers’ gesture.

The body in Rogers’ arms tenses and he looks up at Zemo immediately, confused, alarmed, _scared_. Because just a moment ago, Zemo was enjoying it, was kissing him back and holding him tight. Rogers’ eyes move with military precision, ignoring Zemo’s alluring scar and delicious thin lips pressed together bitterly to meet his eyes.

And Rogers sees the nasty monster ruining their moment, and it’s about time he kills it once and for all:

“I want you,” he states in a hoarse voice. There’s fire in his veins and an overwhelming power within him that he’ll put to good use by slaying the beast. “Always, Helmut. I want you today, and tomorrow, and after that.”

He stares at violet eyes darkened by doubt, but the shroud is slowly lifted, and Zemo rests his forehead against Rogers’:

“And so on?” he asks in an equally hoarse voice and thick accent:

“And so on.”

They hold tight and press their lips together again. The fire is put down gradually, reassuringly, because there will be more wood to burn. But not now, not where they stand. Somewhere more comfortable, where they can explore and set fire to each other – and figure out how to do it, because they know nothing else besides the instinctive pressing of lips.

Pulling away at the same time, Rogers and Zemo take a moment to appreciate each other, so close, feeling so right. No guilt or shame – so far neither Heinrich Zemo or the Avengers have a saying in this matter - and they smile, gradually, and blush and go for another quick peck:

“Stay with me, tonight?” Rogers asks quietly, looking down. No more bravery for him, today. His heart is still wanting to escape. “I just… I just want to have you close.”

“Give me five minutes to shower and I will join you.”

Later they’re lying together in Rogers’ bed, like when they napped under the sun, during their unfortunate ride on horseback. They fit perfectly in each other’s arms, despite the gap between their bodies. Zemo has already fallen asleep, exhausted, but Rogers is still awaken, just barely to think with a minimum of coherency.

Like… just having the best birthday ever: he’s got health, he’s got friends… and now the man he saved one year ago is more than just a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, please let me know your thoughts!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you people for all your support!! X3 It means the world to me!

Their first night together starts well, with the two super-soldiers respecting the gap between them and lying innocently and quietly in their respective halves of the bed. Yet later Rogers wakes up with a startle when a heavy arm drapes possessively around him, and gradually Zemo closes the gap between them while slowly taking over Rogers’ pillow and using his legs to pull the sheets to his side, moving precisely everytime Rogers is falling asleep and waking him up again.

Rogers can only hope that they won’t fall off the bed…

When morning arrives, Captain America is feeling rather exhausted when Zemo wakes up and looks very well-rested. Rogers’ initial plan was to complain about how Baron Zemo is a bed hog, but he can’t bring himself to do it – the moment Zemo sees him, greets him with a radiant smile and leans in for a kiss that Rogers gladly accepts.

Yet the kiss doesn’t make it to its destination, because Zemo, used to wake up quickly and be fully functional, notices immediately that the initial chaste gap between them is closed, and he’s got a mass of sheets wrapped around his legs, and he’s lying on Rogers’ half of the bed… and they’re actually pretty close to the edge. With a frown, Zemo takes a good look at Rogers’ tired face, still waiting for that kiss, and he slowly pushes himself away while trying to untangle his legs from the mess of sheets:

“Entschuldige… (Sorry…)” Zemo mutters, looking away. Great, their first night together and he has managed to literally overstep the line, has certainly made Rogers uncomfortable, has stolen the pillows and sheets and has occupied the whole bed. Rogers clearly didn’t sleep much, but who would, with a man as big as Zemo taking over everything and pushing them towards the edge of the bed?

This is not what Rogers had thought things would turn out, and he changes to a sitting position and drags himself closer to Zemo, to help him with the mess of sheets:

“It’s fine, Helmut,” Rogers assures, but the German gives him a serious look:

“It is not, you did not sleep properly,” he states in a thick accent. “Maybe… we should not share a bed…”

“Being a bed hog won’t stop me from wanting to sleep with you…” Rogers sighs and lies on his side again, studying Zemo attentively. Rogers has already noticed the German stresses a lot – overreacts, makes storms in teacups – when making mistakes. Like the failed massage when Hawkeye and Black Widow walked in on them. Rogers has also already figured out Zemo is insecure, and defends himself by being aggressive… though now he seems to be opting for a different path when Rogers is concerned – extreme measures, like not sleeping together again. Things would be a lot easier if only Zemo shared with Rogers about his past, his family life and upbringing, yet still Rogers can trace back to Heinrich Zemo a great deal of the current baron’s issues.

And he wants to fix them, he wants to help this man he has feelings for to be better and free.

“Come here…” Rogers invites, opening his arms. Reluctantly, Zemo lies on his side as well, face to face with Rogers, but keeps a little distance between them out of respect. “We just need practice, ok? Besides, I’ve never slept with someone before… I think it’s normal that our first try wasn’t perfect.”

“I have always slept alone and I do not make this mess…” Zemo grunts, utterly disappointed at how he behaved in his sleep but wanting to believe Rogers with all his might. He wants this closeness, wants to wake up to Rogers’ dashing smile and delicious lips, wants to feel his warmth at night… but he doesn’t want to be the nuisance that keeps Captain America from sleeping.

“Then you just like me a lot and wanted to be close,” Rogers concludes with a wink and approaches Zemo. They’ll figure this out, they just need time. “Besides… I could always shackle you to the bed to keep you in place.”

That makes them laugh nervously, because Rogers would actually enjoy controlling Zemo in such a way and Zemo would like to experience to be at Rogers’ mercy – though he has already been from the moment he took Rogers’ hand to be pulled from under the debris. This attraction has been growing for a while, and it feels wonderful that now they can explore it without fear or embarrassment.

Still, Zemo is cautious when he finally presses his lips on Rogers’, like he’s still afraid he has made an irremediable mistake. But Rogers pulls him close, reassuringly, and Zemo gives in and sighs in delight.

It’s early and they are by themselves in a spacious bed. Zemo breaks the kiss to nuzzle at Rogers’ nose affectionately and take a good look at Captain America, wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants as a pyjama, hair disheveled and blue eyes hidden almost completely by blown pupils.

“Do you know that white t-shirts are translucid, especially when moist?” Zemo teases, arching an eyebrow. “I remember very clearly the first day of the year, when I found you in the gym, and enjoyed this most glorious view of your chest and back…”

“Oh!” And Rogers reddens and laughs – he always wore white tank tops while getting his super-soldier training in the Army, and wearing white tops for training is a habit he hasn’t lost. The thought that Zemo saw more than what he was supposed to (and at some point, some other unfortunate Avenger, too) is a bit embarrassing, and Rogers thinks briefly about his old self, skinny and ill, and if Zemo would still be attracted to him. He dismisses the thought, eager to enjoy the present. “Well… do you want me to tell you about your cargo pants, or would you rather hear about how nice you look on a tank top and sweat shorts? Because I’ve always imagined you’d sleep in a satin pyjama…”

Zemo’s turn to laugh and be embarrassed:

“I do have satin pyjamas at home, where I do not have to wake up in the middle of the night to save the world…” he confesses, and that earns him the most delighted grin he has ever seen on Rogers’ face.

It’s somewhat terrifying how they’ve come to feel so comfortable with each other, how everything spiraled out of Zemo’s control. Yet surprisingly, it still turned out well for him, and now not only Zemo has the chance to accomplish his initial plan of destroying the Avengers, do better than his father… but he also has found… _someone_. Someone he has very strong feelings for, someone he knows he can trust, someone who trusts him in return and reciprocates his feelings.

Their lips meet again, gently at first, but it fails like their previous attempt at an innocent kiss. Zemo pulls Rogers closer, suddenly starved of warmth and contact, placing his hands on Rogers’ hips and holding firmly. The gesture gives Rogers confidence to carefully lay both hands on Zemo’s chest and feel the muscles under the fabric of the tank top, then slide his hands down a little, then to the sides, then down Zemo’s back. The German enjoys Rogers’ touch, _craves it_ , and presses his body closer to Rogers’, running his fingers through Rogers’ blond hair.

Sighing appreciatively, Rogers gathers courage for something he has been wanting to do for a while: he breaks the kiss to leave a trail of kisses down the scar on Zemo’s forehead, and another on the scar from Zemo’s cheekbone to his chin, and finally leaves a quick lick at the scar across Zemo’s lips. The German gasps, all fire and wanting, and captures Rogers’ lips with his, sucking softly at Rogers’ bottom lip.

All innocence is momently forgotten as Zemo and Rogers are overwhelmed by a primal need of touching skin and digging into muscle, of feeling weight and breathing heavily, of sucking and nibbling and licking. Suddenly they don’t feel inexperienced anymore, moving in synchrony like they have been lovers for years. For once Rogers isn’t ashamed of his grabby hands, as his exploratory touches make Zemo sigh and moan softly in appreciation. They harden, but ignore it for the sake of keeping close and touching and kissing. It’s Rogers’ turn to play with Zemo’s bottom lip. Such a blissful moment and they’re not in the Avengers Tower anymore, but in a little warm bubble of their own, a whole new world to enjoy and discover. Rogers gasps when Zemo finds a sensitive spot on his neck and his hands crawl up Zemo’s back, under the tank top.

Then they stop, staring at each other and panting: their hair and clothes are a mess, Zemo’s lower lip looks uncomfortably swollen, there’s a dark stain on Rogers’ neck and embarrassingly obvious bulges in their pants.

Rogers smiles shyly and arranges Zemo’s tank top:

“I should save some of my birthday gift for later…” he says quietly in a hoarse voice. It feels wonderful to be allowed to touch Zemo like this, but he doesn’t want to rush things and ruin _this_. Zemo smiles back at him, combing his hair carefully:

“You do not need to wait until Christmas, if you want to know…”

They laugh, feeling comfortable and at ease, but lie down again with a certain distance between them to calm down. Zemo licks his lips, satisfied, feeling like he’s finally being properly appreciated.

He needs to retribute: contrary to popular belief, Baron Zemo can be incredibly generous with those he deems deserving:

“I shall bring you breakfast, Steven. It is the least I can do for having disturbed your sleep,” He sits on the bed and stretches, maybe showing off just a little under Rogers’ appreciative gaze:

“You don’t need to, Helmut. I can stand up and get my own breakfast.”

“I want to,” Zemo grunts, leaving no room for argument, and all Rogers can do is laugh, watch as Zemo leaves his bedroom and wait for his return with a radiant smile.

“Is there anything wrong with Baron Zemo’s bedroom?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. asks suddenly, sounding genuinely concerned but freezing Rogers’ blood: he had completely forgotten about the tower’s AI that, despite not having eyes, has sensors to detect body-heat signatures. That is absolutely no good, because if the AI shares with Tony about what just happened, Rogers and Zemo are going to have a lot of trouble.

That makes Rogers’ heart sink a little: he just wanted to… not have to hide from his friends, he just wished things wouldn’t be complicated. But it’s not the case, and he needs to make sure Zemo and he are safe:

“No, F.R.I.D.A.Y.; everything is fine. This is between the baron and me, I appreciate you don’t tell anyone about it,” he says in a commanding tone. The AI, bless it, simply complies.

* * *

 

The Avengers are unanimous - that day Baron Zemo is in a _really_ good mood, and there is only one reasonable conclusion: _he was homesick and the German pastries eased the feeling_. Plans are made to bake more Leipziger Lerchen to create an emergency stash full of German pastries to give Zemo and restore his mood whenever necessary. Finally, the Avengers feel like they too have figured out the mysterious mood swings of Baron Zemo.

Except for Iron Man, who’s convinced the German is up to something evil. He tries to bring up the subject when Rogers shows up in his workshop, all smiles despite looking a bit tired, but his concerns are dismissed.

The day goes by without any incident, namely F.R.I.D.A.Y. saying anything about the suspicious case of two super-soldiers in the same bedroom. That lifts a weight from Rogers’ spirit, a weight he had tried to hide the whole day for the sake of not disturbing Zemo. The effort was rather tiring, but hopefully tonight Rogers can get some sleep.

Lying in Zemo’s bed, Rogers is almost asleep when a heavy, possessive arm is thrown around his shoulders and Zemo’s hand almost smacks his face. This time it doesn’t bother Rogers, and he merely looks over his shoulder, amused – seems Baron Zemo falls asleep quickly and easily when feeling comfortable. Rogers wants to make an experiment and, carefully, turns around on his side so that now he’s facing Zemo.

Zemo, sleeping deeply and peacefully. Rogers takes a moment to admire him, looking fondly at the snub nose that gives him a boyish face and raising a hand to trace with feather-light touches the scar on the corner of his mouth. Zemo just sighs and grunts something, but his closed eyes don’t even flicker. With a smile, Rogers closes the gap between them and wraps an arm around Zemo, keeping his other arm tucked under the pillow. He feels Zemo’s breathing, feels him lean slowly and unconsciously towards him, and before falling asleep Rogers is aware of Zemo curling slightly to hide his head on the crook of Rogers’ neck.

They sleep peacefully that night, and in the morning, when Zemo wakes up, realises he hasn’t pushed Rogers towards the edge of the bed, nor taken over all the pillows, nor cocooned his legs in the sheets. But the initial gap between them is closed, and when he lifts his head a little finds Rogers looking at him with a sleepy yet well-rested face:

“See, we just need practice…” Rogers mutters. Zemo smiles at him, radiant about another problem that will trouble them no more, and shows his agreement with Rogers’ statement by capturing Rogers’ lips with his, and this time they’re not so shy anymore: Zemo moves a little to lie at an awkward angle over Rogers, pressing their chests together, with their arms snaking around each other frantically, exposing skin to touch and taut muscles to feel. Two men who never touch alcohol find themselves irremediably addicted to this inebriating feeling of belonging.

Tentatively, Rogers hooks a foot behind one of Zemo’s legs and pulls it softly, inviting him to fully lie atop of him.

And oh, Baron Zemo would have gladly accepted the invitation… if only F.R.I.D.A.Y. hadn’t announced an urgent situation in the Vaults.

With frustrated groans, Zemo and Rogers pull apart, disheveled and hard and they _should have been eating breakfast_. Running steps are heard outside and a new problem arises: Captain America needs to get in his bedroom to equip… but he can’t be seen leaving _Baron Zemo’s_ bedroom, in crumpled pyjamas and with a tell-tale bulge in his sweatpants. Yet Rogers’ bedroom is right in front of Zemo’s… it can’t go terribly wrong…?

Using all his willpower, Rogers stands up:

“Come on, Helmut: equip… We need to go,” He walks to the door and opens just a little to peek at the empty corridor. His bedroom is right there, all he needs is to _run_. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., open the door for me, please…”

The AI does so and, when the door is open, Rogers looks around once more and sprints into his bedroom. Success!

* * *

 

“Seems Strucker managed to bribe a guard. His cell was empty this morning, but apparently only him is missing,” Natasha explains quickly, flying the Aven-Jet to the Vaults:

“He escaped and did not take Schmidt with him?” Zemo repeats, frowning suspiciously and chewing his protein bar -breakfast- thoughtfully. He’s still standing behind Thor’s seat, and if the Avengers don’t get him a seat soon enough, he’ll get one of his own that’s going to be bigger and much more comfortable than anyone else’s. “That is betrayal.”

“Yeah, you know about that!” Iron Man teases with a toothy grin, ignoring Zemo’s murderous glare. Rogers frowns at Tony, a speechless request to not upset Baron Zemo, even because it’s the Avengers’ interest that Zemo proceeds his reasoning aloud – why would Stucker betray the Red Skull?

Unfortunately, Zemo keeps his thoughts for himself during the rest of the flight.

In the Vaults, all the cells and security systems are intact – only Stucker and the guard who allowed him to escape are missing. Strange is… there is no data about that one guard, so it seems to have been a Hydra operation. Why not take the Red Skull becomes the real issue, and while the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. guards on duty discuss among themselves the possibilities, Captain America watches attentively Zemo’s masked face, how he frowns and narrows his eyes, thinking.

Because Baron Zemo has seen something he doesn’t like – and the Red Skull’s sardonic smile while watching the gathering outside his cell, next to Strucker’s empty cell, was highly disturbing. Zemo pulls Rogers aside, immediately rising suspicion from the others, but this is a rather private talk:

“Steven, we must haste; this is certainly Hydra work and we need to continue to capture facilities,” Then he adds, bitterly. “Also, tell S.H.I.E.L.D. they have permission to secure the bases I captured…” On his own, all by himself, with no aid, and now because of that damned Strucker all his hard-earned complete control of Hydra is at risk! His glorious plans are in danger!

Rogers nods, understanding, and walks back to the group to tell them about Zemo’s conclusion and that this time Captain America is tagging along for a Hydra hunt.

Iron Man, however, doesn’t like all this rush. It seems too convenient: Strucker escaping, Zemo dragging Rogers into another Hydra hunt… Maybe this is the evil thing Zemo had been planning all along and he’s been so happy because _the plan is unfolding_!! But Zemo is wrong if he thinks he can harm Captain America again! Luckily, Iron Man is here to save the day – and his friend – and he raises a hand to shoot Zemo with an energy beam, sending him against the nearest wall:

“Tony!! Are you mad??” Rogers is torn between shaking Tony by the shoulders or rush to where Zemo is groaning on the floor – he opts for trotting to the German hurriedly and kneeling next to him:

“Can’t you see it? He planned all this!! It’s a trap!!” Tony explains, raising his hand again to shoot at Zemo. However, Thor grabs his wrist and holds his hand down. The Asgardian does not look amused:

“You will do no such thing, Tony! Helmut is a friend, now! And unless you can prove this is his doing, you will not harm him!” The words are heated and commanding, and Tony needs to lift his faceplate for the sake of looking Thor, _his friend, a fellow Avenger_ , in the eye.

But Thor isn’t the only one taking Zemo’s side: Clint and the Hulk nod, looking seriously at Tony. Falcon steps away a little, not wanting to take sides, and Natasha is divided between siding with Tony and remaining silent to play along Zemo, to see what he’s up to.

In the meantime Zemo stands up, touched by his friends’ support but utterly annoyed by this waste of time. He dusts himself off, indignantly, then points a threatening finger at Iron Man:

“You are all short-sighted! You do not understand: I have offered you Hydra, its’ resources! Under my command, Hydra would be a companion to the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D! But with Strucker on the run, all my work is jeopardized!” he snarls, but has the impression no other besides Rogers – an identical brilliantly strategical mind – can understand this.

Clenching his jaw, Tony admits Zemo has a point – the German had already secured some facilities, and Strucker will probably take them back and then Zemo’s again on stage zero. But the thought of _Rogers_ going alone with Zemo, considering how the German has already hypnotised him once…

“Let’s go, Helmut…” Rogers urges, casting a shocked look at Tony and walking away. He has too much to think about: who this guard might be; where is Strucker now; what is Hydra’s goal behind this; what will happen to the facilities Zemo secured by himself if they’re not occupied by S.H.I.E.L.D. right away… Tony reacted like this simply because Rogers is going on a mission with Baron Zemo – Rogers does not want to think of what would happen if Tony were to find out about them.

“I will join you, my friends!” Thor volunteers and trots after Rogers and Zemo. Clint and the Hulk exchange a look, considering, but Black Widow comes to their aid:

“Two super-soldiers and a god is enough. We need you guys here, in case something happens,” she states, and that logical statement is enough to make Hawkeye and the Hulk feel like they’re not such bad friends.

On the other hand, Tony Stark feels like he was abandoned and betrayed, and for the following days can’t think of anything else other than Captain America turning his back at him to go help Baron Zemo accomplish his evil agenda. But these feelings wear off, and in the span of a week all Tony can do is worry about his best friend and work endlessly in his workshop to try to distract himself from Captain America’s absence.

* * *

 

Even because Rogers, Thor and Zemo are gone for a couple of weeks. They manage to capture another dozen of Hydra bases that are promptly occupied by S.H.I.E.L.D. – though Zemo still collects all the intel and installs the blocking malware in every computer – but they fail to locate and find Strucker.

They return, tired and bruised and Zemo is in a terrible mood: his plans are in danger _again_ ; Strucker is still missing; Rogers and he could only enjoy their new… _status_ … for two nights and barely one morning and had no further chance at being by themselves these last two weeks – and this, _this is the worst_. How dares life interfere with Baron Zemo’s happiness?? It is not fair that Rogers is there, so close, and Zemo has permission to hold him and touch him and kiss and enjoy his warmth… but cannot, because they are on a mission with someone else!

Thor has noticed Zemo souring throughout the days and has also observed with interest how Captain America so skillfully and patiently deals with Baron Zemo. The Asgardian can now confirm they are indeed close, and he’s glad that Rogers knows how to put up with Zemo – there were a few moments when Thor thought the only solution was to knock out the German. But Rogers listens to his rants with endless patience, talks to him softly, touches his shoulders reassuringly and promises everything will be fine. It’s a dangerous promise to make, especially when dealing with a man so impetuous like Zemo, but Thor is positive Captain America can do anything.

Yet Rogers’ patience is reaching a limit…

Back to the Avengers Tower, Rogers dismisses Thor, staying alone with Zemo in the conference room to make the mission report – not only because Thor can’t make a proper, army-style record, but because Rogers _needs_ to be alone with Zemo, who’s growing more and more insufferable.

When Thor leaves them, Rogers turns around to look at Zemo:

“Right, you need to calm down. We’ve done all we could and by no means I’d let us be out there on our own for more than two weeks!” he says firmly. Zemo starts to pace back and forth like a caged beast:

“We could have continued to look for Strucker! While he is still out there, nothing _is certain anymore_!!” His glorious plans for Hydra, the destruction of the Avengers, his invincible army of super-soldiers, his future with Rogers by his side – and can’t Roger see this? Can’t Rogers understand that the longer they take to catch Strucker, the more problems they’ll have, _the less time together they can enjoy_!!

Like these ridiculous two weeks!! Thor’s help was appreciated, but did he really have to come?? Couldn’t it have just been Rogers and Zemo? They could have… made a small stop in Germany… rest… spent at least an entire day all by themselves, without Avengers or AIs telling them to go save the world.

 _Doesn’t Rogers miss Zemo????_ Life is so excruciatingly unfair, always giving Zemo the taste of something good only to take it away the next second!! Two weeks ago, they slept comfortably in each other’s arms and now… they haven’t even embraced these two weeks – pats on the shoulder are simply not satisfying!!

“Helmut, it’s not the end of the world! S.H.I.E.L.D. is also looking for Strucker, stop worrying!”

“My plans are always getting thwarted by everything and everyone!!” Zemo is yelling now, gesticulating furiously _because this is not fair_!!!!

“Stand down, don’t you yell at me!” Rogers yells back, pointing authoritatively to the German. “I have done nothing to deserve your wrath, I’ve been helping you since the beginning! So, don’t you yell at me!”

Zemo clenches his jaw, furious, feeling hurt and betrayed and the most wronged being in the universe. Not even _his_ Steve Rogers sees his point. With a grunt, Zemo turns his back at Rogers and grudgingly tells F.R.I.D.A.Y. to record his report.

Slumping his shoulders tiredly, Rogers sits at the table, reaches out for paper and a pen and starts to write his own report, trying to abstract himself from Zemo’s tight and heavy-accented voice.

For a while, the two super-soldiers seem to forget about each other, dictating or writing, focusing solely in the task at hand. Zemo finishes his report first and stomps off the briefings room, leaving Rogers alone with his half-written report.

The air feels stormy immediately after the German’s departure, but it eases slowly, until Rogers sighs tiredly and puts down the pen, suddenly unable to organise his thoughts and write. He feels a headache, though super-soldiers are not supposed to have those, and he massages his temples slowly, blaming Zemo and his temper.

Still, Rogers admits he misses being close to Zemo. Everything had been so ideal two weeks ago and now… now they’ve just yelled at each other again. Maybe this is why Zemo had grown restless and unbearable, maybe he misses Rogers just like Rogers misses him, maybe being within reach but having no opportunity to be by themselves is what truly pushed Zemo over the edge.

Baron Zemo is an impetuous, passionate man, feeling intensely and reacting to his feelings to an extreme degree – for good and bad. But Captain America already knew this, and had also been warned by the man in question about mood swings and bad temper. Looking at these last two weeks now, Rogers can see the distance between him and Zemo, how unfair it was to be so close and yet be unable to act accordingly. He had thought he could calm down Hurricane Zemo with patience and reassuring touches, but Captain America had been wrong.

Rogers feels a sudden, crippling fear that _he might not be enough for Zemo_. But he wants to, badly, and the report feels useless and unimportant comparing to what is at stake here. Rogers worked hard to get where he is at now with Zemo, and he doesn’t want to lose it just because a band of terrorists released one of their leaders.

* * *

 

Tony rushes out of the lift and makes a beeline to the kitchen, where Rogers is preparing sandwiches - Captain America has the look of someone deactivating an explosive engine with civilians around:

“Steve!! F.R.I.D.A.Y. told me you were back!!” Stopping next to Rogers, Tony eyes the sandwiches with amusement. “Hungry, uh? That’s a lot of sandwiches! I can order a pizza, if you want! Better, _I am going to order pizza for dinner_ , with all the extras!”

“That sounds great!” Rogers forces himself to smile and to look at Tony.

Iron Man, who attacked Zemo two weeks ago, who still thinks the German means no good. Rogers’ heart clenches when he thinks of how Tony would react if he _knew_. Maybe he wouldn’t want to be friends with Rogers anymore, maybe he would kick him out of the Avengers. Another gauntlet of fear clasps Rogers’ heart and he needs to look away from Tony, back to the sandwiches that he’s not going to eat now, but that hopefully are going to be his and Zemo’s lunch tomorrow.

He has plans, he even had plans for today, but seems he’ll have to compromise for the sake of Tony, his best friend. Even if he’ll compromise just a little:

“This is lunch for tomorrow, so you better order a lot of pizza…” he says in a hopefully light tone, still avoiding to look at Tony and spreading peanut butter on a slice of bread way too meticulously. Tony’s genius brain, however, registers only the part that pizza is a good idea. He picks up his mobile from a pocket and orders a dozen of it.

Zemo, however, doesn’t join the Avengers for dinner – he merely prepares a large bowl of Müsli and returns to his bedroom. Clint and the Hulk demand to know why Zemo is being a cryptid again, Thor tells them about Baron Zemo’s mighty bad temper, Natasha wants to know all the details about the mission, Tony and Falcon chat animatedly about tech and Rogers eats his dose of pizza hurriedly and excuses himself, stating that he’s tired and is going to bed early.

* * *

 

Eating his Müsli absentmindedly, Zemo stores the collected intel from the recently captured bases in his laptop and in another pen drive. He’s not in the mood to read it, though, and honestly his dinner has absolutely no flavour and he’s tempted to just leave it aside.

His wrath has left him while he showered, his annoyance had lasted only while he dried himself and now he’s got nothing besides a disappointed exhaustion about how he has messed up again. It wasn’t Rogers’ fault that Strucker escaped and hid somewhere untraceable, and didn’t want Zemo that Rogers and Thor tagged along too, so that he could start gathering and preparing the high-command for the new Hydra? Well, looking at it now, Baron Zemo’s glorious plan to defeat the Avengers is kind of working.

But not his new status with Rogers. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They should have time together, time for each other. Zemo knows all too well what distance does to relationships, and he does not want that happening to him and the partner he has chosen.

He needs to apologise. Again. He’s always apologising and this can’t be good…

“Baron Zemo, Captain Rogers requests your presence in his quarters,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces suddenly, startling Zemo and causing him to give a little jump on his chair and hit his knees on the desk. “If you are calmer, of course…”

Grunting and standing up way too eagerly, Zemo hurriedly shuts down his laptop and leaves his bedroom. He looks around carefully, to make sure nobody is watching – the last thing Baron Zemo needs is to have Hawkeye spotting him in his ridiculous sleeping attire of tank top and sweat shorts. With nobody to see him, Zemo strides towards Rogers’ bedroom, already raising a hand to knock at the door. Yet the door opens automatically when he approaches, and Zemo can see Rogers lying on the bed and looking expectantly at him.

That is confusing and the German doesn’t know how to interpret the situation and act accordingly – they have argued and he has been summoned to Rogers’ presence, so Rogers must want an apology; but Rogers is lying down, which means he’s tired and might not want to hear Zemo. What do to besides standing awkwardly in the middle of the room??

A moment of silence stretches between them, and when Rogers is sure Zemo won’t move by himself, he taps the empty space next to him on the mattress, making Zemo frown in confusion and immediately suspect a trap: _they have just argued, Zemo has just yelled at Rogers, why would Rogers want him close –_ is he going to give Zemo a false sense of security and then tell him things can’t go any further because Baron Zemo is a nasty piece of work, is Rogers making Zemo vulnerable so that he’s easier to destroy?

Rogers’ turn to frown and tap the mattress more insistently, wondering why Zemo’s face went from suspicious to panicked in the blink of an eye. The German finally complies, reluctantly, and eventually makes it to the bed, crawls to Rogers and sits, keeping a little distance between them.

For an expert swordsman who can easily read people, Baron Zemo is rather dense when things come down to intimacy…

“Helmut, come here…” Rogers opens his arms, inviting, but Zemo remains still:

“I am sorry,” he mutters, and now maybe he should turn around and leave because this is awkward. Rogers nods, keeps his arms spread… and Helmut Zemo is a weak man that drops his defenses at any convincing display of affection from Captain America – Zemo approaches Rogers and lies on his side, sighing in satisfaction as Rogers’ arms wrap around him. He’s pulled even closer towards Rogers and hides his face on the crook of Rogers’ neck:

“I’m sorry, too,” Rogers whispers, wanting to apologise for committing so much to his super-hero and Avenger lives and failing to fit in properly his new role of _partner_. Because that’s what they are, right? The terms were not discussed and the famous three words were not said, and Rogers isn’t even sure they should say them at all because they are men, super-soldiers, and maybe it would be awkward if they did. He’d like to hear them and say them, but he can’t even tell Zemo exactly what he’s sorry for, so…

He nuzzles Zemo’s blond hair, urging him to show his face. The German does so and his lips are captured immediately as Rogers tries to place an apology for the distance of these last two weeks in a passionate kiss. He holds Zemo closely, tangling their legs together and rolling slightly on his back, wanting to feel Zemo’s weight.

The message goes through and Zemo sighs, relieved, and _this_ feels more honest than simply words. Words can be deceiving and voices can be faked, but not… _this_. Rogers wants him, has reached for him, has gotten him _here_. Zemo rolls over Rogers, cupping his face and shivering in delight as Rogers’ resolute hands slide down his back and tug up his tank top just a little, asking for permission.

After a gentle bite on Rogers’ lower lip, Zemo kneels, straddling Rogers and pulling him to a sitting position. Rogers pulls out Zemo’s tank top gently, taking his time to look at Zemo’s torso and admire it. Zemo is a little more rushed when he undresses Rogers’ t-shirt, finally having in full display what he had caught delicious glimpses of, months ago.

They look much better like this, with no bruises and bandages and out of battlefield or a hospital room. They touch carefully, mapping, learning for later. Zemo pulls them closer, beating heart on beating heart, deciding he never wants to leave this bubble of warmth again. He digs his fingers into Rogers’ back when Rogers’ lips ghost at his collarbones and bites down a surprised gasp.

The brushing of lips turns into a proper kiss – Zemo is afraid of naming what he feels in that kiss – to his shoulder, then Rogers looks up at him with a smile:

“We should get some sleep; tomorrow we need to wake up early,” Because Rogers is taking them on his bike to the barn, so that they can spend the whole day by themselves, riding on horseback.

* * *

 

August arrives, dry and hot. Sam can finally enjoy vacation with his mother while the Avengers and Baron Zemo keep looking for Strucker, still nowhere to be found.

Still, Rogers and Zemo find themselves with plenty of time in their hands when the Avengers leave them alone for weekly beach trips: Rogers never tags along because the lack of modesty at the beach bothers him deeply, and Zemo simply hates everything about it. So in the days when they have the Avengers Tower all for themselves, they are free to be open about their new _status_ : they can leave the bedroom as late as it pleases them and don’t need to worry about crumpled clothes, disheveled hair, hickeys and bulges; they can kiss while preparing something to eat; Rogers can walk around topless just to tease Zemo; they can finally spar in the gym without worrying about Thor coming in and join them because fighting is so much fun, and can turn sparring into passionate kissing. They can explore and map, set and move boundaries, tease and give in.

Baron Zemo, in a great mood, starts to make plans. Glorious plans. Plans of taking Rogers to Germany, to castle Zemo, and tour him around to show him Zemo’s beautiful home-town and breath-taking countryside; plans of riding on horseback with Rogers through the estate; plans of sitting with Rogers on the garden of the castle and tell him about feelings and make promises; plans of allowing Rogers to strip him completely and have him. Zemo can imagine them together in a large canopy bed with the fireplace across it lit, filling the chamber with a comfortable orange glow in wintery nights; and he can imagine Rogers painting in the studio while he works at the office, sorting out paperwork on estate management; and he can imagine Rogers playing with the cats and the dogs and picking up fugitive chicks and ducklings to take them back to their coops; and he can imagine them together in one of the living rooms, the one with the grand piano, sitting side by side on the bench, Zemo remembering what his mother taught him and Rogers learning from him. There are no Avengers, no S.H.I.E.L.D., no Hydra, no world to save. Just them.

Yes, Zemo can dream and plan while life doesn’t pull another prank on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at these adorable, unsuspecting idiots. :') Don't you love them so much?
> 
> Please tell me what you think!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support!!!
> 
> Now, these two idiots have been too peaceful, don't you think? >:3

“Never thought I’d say this, but… great job punching the Ghost Rider on the face!” Tony compliments Zemo and sits heavily on the couch without even taking off his armour.

If Zemo hadn’t done it, then Tony would have to… and some wirings in his armour would have certainly melted. So, better have Zemo complaining about a burnt hand than having to fix an armour – and who knows if Tony wouldn’t have lost his hand at all! Cons of having his armour and hand safe: Captain America is more concerned about Zemo’s well-being than the usual…

Tony can’t understand why Rogers worries so much: Zemo’s wounded hand is already healing!

But Baron Zemo has learned his lessons: one, he shall never touch angry skeletons on biker attire and wrapped in hellfire _ever again_ ; two, super-soldier Baron Zemo is not fire proof. And he needs to get a new glove… maybe a fire-proof glove, just in case…

“Ah, Halloween… gotta love this night…” Clint sighs sarcastically as he flops down on the couch. The Hulk, Falcon and Natasha sit next to him, reaching out for the abandoned bowls of appetisers on the coffee table. Only Rogers and Zemo remain standing. “Should we finish our marathon of zombie movies?”

“I am going to sleep,” Zemo grunts, walking away into the corridor; Zemo is going to shower, lie down, and in about half an hour Rogers is going to join him so that they’ll sleep together. It has been their routine for the past months.

Zemo showers quickly and with cold water to spare the healing skin on his injured hand. He could take the chance that Rogers is certainly going to be more attentive to him and finally invite him to come with him to Germany for a while – Zemo wants to move to a more physical stage with Rogers, but he doesn’t feel comfortable in doing so in a place where they can be interrupted at _any moment_ ; no, he wants them to be completely by themselves and have all the time in the world. Rogers had suggested they could go to a hotel somewhere else, but Zemo – a baron, nobleman – considers it a cheap solution most undignified for two super-soldiers like them.

He dries himself quickly, puts on a pair of boxers and the sweat shorts he wears to sleep – why bother putting on a tank top that Rogers will remove? – and exits the bathroom.

The German nearly has a heart-attack when he finds Heinrich Zemo sitting at the feet of the bed, looking around with interest before staring intensely at Helmut Zemo, who freezes on the spot and gapes in horror.

_His father is not supposed to be here. His father cannot know about Rogers._

A memory flashes before Zemo’s eyes, of him kicking the man staring at him back into the time portal. _Betrayal_. He should reach for his sword, prepare to defend himself from the vicious attack that is coming – because oh, Heinrich Zemo certainly means no good!

“You look like you have seen a ghost!” Heinrich teases, addressing his son in German, and for a shocking second Helmut can’t understand what is being said to him. With a sigh, Heinrich stands up and walks towards the current Baron Zemo, rooted to where he stands and looking around nervously in search for weapons and an escape route:

“Father, what are you doing here??” he asks in a tight voice, finally switching to German. And why hasn’t F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted everyone in the tower, why haven’t the Avengers broke down a wall to come help him?

But does he want them to?

Heinrich Zemo stops in front of his son and tilts his masked head, staring Helmut in the eyes. They both have violet eyes – father and son share a lot of traits, something that has always brought them pride:

“I should be asking you that, my son,” Heinrich replies in a calm tone, resting both hands heavily on Helmut’s shoulders and making him quiver slightly.

Baron Zemo hadn’t heard that tone of voice in many years, hadn’t felt the _harmless_ weight of his father’s hands for even more years. He can’t understand why his father isn’t furious at his betrayal, why they aren’t fighting. He stares back at his father, into a benevolent pair of eyes – he could swear his father’s eyes had always been hard and cold!

Seems Heinrich Zemo isn’t here to cause trouble, and that gives Helmut courage to finally move, crossing his arms in front of his chest, shyly:

“I… I have a plan. To destroy the Avengers,” he shares, feeling Heinrich’s hands squeeze his shoulders. Not painfully, no, much the opposite. He had already forgotten how nice it felt to have his father touching him without harming him. The previous baron hums, interested, tilting his head again:

“My son, tell me everything!” Heinrich requests. _Requests, not demands_ , and Helmut is left speechless for a second.

Then the door of his bedroom opens, slowly, and he looks hurriedly and with wide eyes to see Rogers coming in – Zemo had given F.R.I.D.A.Y. permission to automatically open the door to Rogers. Captain America and two Zemos is a recipe for disaster and the current baron looks at his father again, panicked, about to beg him not to do anything.

But Heinrich Zemo is gone. Helmut’s shoulders feel suddenly cold.

“Helmut?” Rogers calls softly as he door closes behind him. The German is standing petrified in the entrance to the bathroom, damp hair sticking to his head, his chest heaving as he struggles to gain control of his breathing. Frowning in worry, Rogers strides to Zemo and holds his arms, frowning. “Helmut? Is everything alright?”

Zemo looks around the bedroom, but his father is gone. He stares back at Rogers, scared, confused, and what is he supposed to do now?? His father has just spoken to him without insulting and beating him, he can’t just… throw that away! But he doesn’t want to lie to Rogers, he doesn’t want to create trouble between them and potentially ruining this beautiful thing between them.

Clenching his jaw, Zemo shakes his head slowly and forces a smile. He won’t say anything: this way, he won’t be lying… and that will give him time to figure out what just happened:

“I am just tired, Steven. I thought I saw something…” he excuses softly, cupping Rogers’ face and thumbing his cheeks. Rogers keeps frowning, uncertain. “Remember me not to watch zombie movies again?”

This time Rogers smiles, relaxed, and leans forwards for a chaste kiss. Poor Zemo is certainly just tired and punching a flaming biker skeleton has probably impressed him. Taking Zemo’s hands carefully, Rogers leads them to the bed and they lie down to cuddle up quietly. Rogers falls asleep quickly, relaxed, but Zemo has trouble falling asleep, looking around carefully to not disturb Rogers.

But Heinrich Zemo is gone, and maybe Helmut did see a ghost.

* * *

 

The next day Rogers is attending a charity event, and that leaves Zemo alone to mess around in the enclosed training area with the Hulk, team up with Hawkeye to pull a prank on Thor by carrying around perfect replicas of Mjolnir, play with Thor in the PlayStation, help Sam with homework and improve his pistols while pretending to be interested in what Tony Stark has to say about his armour. Despite being a bit tired from the little sleep he got, Zemo is in a good mood – waking up with Rogers always makes him feel invigorated, and enjoy his affections and the bit of intimacy going on between them makes Zemo feel valuable and appreciated.

He could almost forget about his father, because nobody – F.R.I.D.A.Y., the Avengers – told him anything about it; so maybe he dreamed, maybe the Ghost Rider used some kind of supernatural hellish power to make Zemo see things. This reasoning puts Zemo at ease throughout the day, and after a feast of Chinese food with the Avengers, Zemo heads into his bedroom to read a little while waiting for Rogers to return from the event.

Heinrich Zemo is sitting at his desk, going through the family’s photo-album, and Baron Zemo feels like screaming and running to the hills. Or maybe just call his friends for backup. And Rogers, totally get Rogers to help him get rid of his father.

 _His father_ , who looks up at him kindly, puts the photo-album aside and stands up with open, welcoming arms:

“My son!” he greets, waiting for Helmut to approach him. Reluctantly, Helmut walks up to his father, frowning, and allows Heinrich to hug him. It’s comforting, familiar… like when he was a child, before the war… when his father would not refuse him love. He retributes the embrace, shyly at first, taking in a deep breath – and his father still has the scent he remembers about him, of leather and metal and gunpowder. Helmut’s grip on his father tightens:

“Father, why are you here?” he asks in a quiet voice and breaks the embrace, wriggling away. Heinrich simply stares at him calmly:

“You said you have a plan to defeat the Avengers, our sworn enemies… and I am here to assist you!”

Helmut crosses his arms in front of his chest, protectively. This is all very strange – namely his father’s kindness, no matter how much Helmut wants it:

“I do not need your assistance!” He narrows his eyes. “You left me at the mercy of the enemy, why should I let you take part in my plans, now that I am so close to achieve what you failed?”

Speaking like this feels… good. _Empowering_. Rogers has always told him he deserved better than what Heinrich Zemo gave him, and now that Helmut has this strength, he will not go down without a fight.

Heinrich merely stares at him, until he approaches a bit more and cups his face. The leather gloves are cold, but the touch is… _fatherly_ :

“I was not there to see you receiving these scars…” Heinrich mutters, and it clenches Helmut’s heart, making him shut his eyes briefly. “I missed much of your life, and I do not want to miss the triumph of Zemo in your person.”

A moment of silence follows, with the younger Zemo slowly leaning in to his father’s touch and relaxing his shoulders. He opens his eyes again, but looks away:

“How did you…”

“You sent me back to my own time, Helmut. I have been building my own time portal to contact you again!” Heinrich shakes Helmut’s head softly. “Tell me your plan, my son.”

“You must trust me, father,” Helmut bargains, clinging to every encouragement Rogers has given him. He’s better than Heinrich Zemo, he always wanted to be better than his father.

Surprisingly, Heinrich nods, thumbs at his son’s cheeks and withdraws his hands slowly. Laughter is heard outside, and Helmut looks hurriedly at the door, then back to his father.

Or… at where his father stood.

So, Heinrich Zemo is coming from the past to meddle with the current Baron Zemo’s business. Zemos do not like interference, even from other Zemos, and in Helmut’s mind the memory of being cast aside as his father marveled with the Zemo from 2099 is still too vivid and hurts him like burning iron.

Baron Zemo makes the decision of _not letting his father close ever again_. Because Heinrich Zemo would kill the Avengers, would kill Rogers, and Helmut Zemo does not want to kill the Avengers… and be damned whoever lies a finger on Captain America!

Speaking of which, sneaks into Zemo’s bedroom and embraces him from behind, and Zemo can’t bring himself to worry anymore. He turns around, smiling… to finds Rogers’ face and hair smudged with ink:

“So… I was giving autographs…”

“And arranging your hair and scratching your chin, by the looks of it.”

“I didn’t notice… I really hate fountain pens, you know?”

“Did you spend the entire day in this disgraceful state, Steven?”

“ _Almost_ … and I ran out of shampoo… I was wondering if I could borrow yours…?”

“You can borrow the entire shower, Steven. It is more practical,” Zemo smiles widely, delighted with the thought of watching Rogers leaving the bathroom with damp hair and slightly wet skin and join him in bed.

With a nod, Rogers returns to his own bedroom to get his pyjama and goes back to Zemo’s bedroom to shower and sleep.

While he showers, Zemo does his best to lie still in bed, reading a book – an image of patience and contentment. But it’s all a lie – Zemo can’t focus in his reading, the sounds of running water from the bathroom and the knowledge that _Steve Rogers_ is in the shower spurring his imagination to places he would rather not visit while they are trapped in the Avengers Tower. It’s getting more and more difficult to control himself, to stop Rogers’ explorations, but Zemo is completely convinced it’s worth waiting: he wants to take them somewhere comfortable, where they can be by themselves and take all the time in the world, where he can make Rogers feel special and pamper him.

That place, of course, is Castle Zemo.

Rogers leaves the bathroom, wearing only sweatpants – why bother to dress a t-shirt that Zemo is going to remove? Zemo looks at him over the book, only to pretend to be interested in reading again. That makes Rogers raise an eyebrow, climb to the bed and crawl slowly to Zemo, who peeks at him again only to hide his face behind the book, grinning.

Zemo lets Rogers pull the book from this hands, close it loudly and put it aside. The next moment, Rogers is lying on top of him, kissing him tenderly, and Zemo wraps his arms around Rogers. Zemo immediately understands Rogers is tired and would rather be more active in the morning, so the German rolls them, so that they’re lying on their sides and facing each other.

Rogers breaks the kiss and nuzzles Zemo’s nose:

“I missed you…” he mutters softly, looking at Zemo through half-lidded eyes. Captain America enjoys spending his time at charity events to help people in need, enjoys being a super-hero and having the power to save lives and slowly change the world for better… but the more time he spends with Zemo, the more he wishes it could be just the two of them, just two regular men – a nobleman and a soldier who met by chance, who get to live undisturbed in a castle, with no worries other than looking after each other.

Rogers kisses Zemo again, wanting to say the three words. But he’s afraid the time is not right, that a better chance could present – like, a nice walk together in some forested area, since Zemo enjoys nature so much; or after a tough battle, when they are injured but clutching to each other for mutual reassurance. He doesn’t say them, instead shifts a little to leave a kiss on Zemo’s forehead:

“Thank you,” he whispers:

“For the shower?”

“For everything.”

They smile, pull close, cuddle and kiss. It doesn’t take long for them to fall asleep… and wake up with a startle little later when F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces there are Doom-Bots in Washington.

* * *

 

“I thought Doom was imprisoned…” Zemo complains when they are back to the tower. There weren’t many robots, but they were big and hard to destroy:

“Yeah but no, he never stays in for long… You know, politics,” Natasha explains with a yawn.

Everyone disappears into their bedrooms to go back to sleep, until only Zemo and Rogers stand in the kitchen, pretending to be busy. When they are sure nobody is there to see them, they rush back into Zemo’s bedroom.

For a second, Zemo expects to find his father and be in trouble. But there is nobody waiting for him, and he sighs in relief, only to take in a sharp breath as Rogers, standing right behind him, starts to remove his holsters, scabbard and belt, slowly and teasingly:

“Are you not tired, Steven?” Zemo asks, faking innocent confusion as his mask is pulled off. The problem of super-soldiers is that, even tired, a fight makes them hyped and restless again. The gym used to be the solution for Rogers’ and Zemo’s problems.

“Very. I need you to remove my uniform for me…” Rogers replies, holding Zemo by the shoulders and spinning him around to face him.

Months ago they were enemies, now they kiss frantically and Zemo picks up Rogers and throws him over his shoulder, making them both laugh, and strides to the bed. Bending a little, he lets Rogers slowly roll off his shoulder:

“Fear not, Captain! I am here to help you!” Having pinned down Rogers to the mattress and having him lying flat on his back between his knees, Zemo sets to the task at hand, first removing Rogers’ mask, then the belt, and scratching softly as he pulls out the upper part of Rogers’ suit.

Their initial plan of lying down quietly and sleep is definitely forgotten.

Zemo takes time to appreciate Rogers, running his palms up and down his torso. Zemo’s hands are calloused from the sword, but Rogers is thrilled by the roughness of it on the soft skin of his body. He lifts his arms, grabs Zemo’s suit and tugs at it disapprovingly, but his hands are imperiously swatted away:

“You Americans are so impatient…” Zemo complains, but moves to kneel next to Rogers to pull off his boots and trousers.

He’s promptly pushed to lie on his back and Rogers crawls over him, to pull off his boots and unzip and remove his suit, enjoying that Zemo is silent about the accusatory trail of discarded clothes and boots and belts and weapons and masks – he’ll certainly complain about it in the morning, though…

With only underwear between them, they close the space separating their bodies in a heated kiss. Zemo spreads his legs slowly to better accommodate Rogers, and it takes all their willpower not to thrust their hips, undress completely.  They mutter about how much they want each other, feeling comfortable, like they finally belong and fit somewhere.

But between moans and gasps, Zemo remembers his father. What would he think, if he knew? Would he still cup Zemo’s face? And look him with affection? _And call him «son»?_

Rogers bites at that spot where Zemo’s neck and shoulder meet and the German digs his fingers into the small of Rogers’ back, his train of thought breaking for a blissful second, only to come up together again with a brilliant resolution.

 _Baron Helmut Zemo deserves this, wants this, shall enjoy this._ Time-travelling Heinrich Zemo be damned, Helmut is the current baron and he’ll do as it pleases him: he’ll take over Hydra, he’ll create an army of super-soldiers that the public will prefer over the super-heroes and _he’ll have Captain America by his side_. He’ll accomplish more than his father and he’ll have a successful, loving relationship.

And he’ll tell Rogers right now about the visits he’s gotten:

“Steven, I must tell you something…” he says in a hoarse voice. Rogers immediately stops the teasing kisses on his jaw and looks at him, surprised.

And hopeful that he’ll hear those three little words.

There’s a knock on the door and Hawkeye, from the other side of it:

“Hey Zemo, are you awaken??”

Zemo and Rogers groan and remain silent, expecting Hawkeye to leave… but he just knocks again, more insistently:

“Zemo?? ZemoZemoZemoZemo!!!”

“What??” Zemo snaps angrily, cursing the Avengers Tower and its ill-timed inhabitants:

“I can’t sleep ‘cause I’m hungry but _some literal heartless guy_ ate my cereal! Can I eat yours?”

“I sincerely hope you choke!!”

“Thanks, you’re the best!”

Waiting expectantly to be sure Hawkeye is gone, Zemo’s previously pleasure-hazed mind is temporarily clear to make him realise something important – if he brings up Heinrich Zemo now, he’ll ruin the moment, more than what Barton did! Rogers will probably be upset, stress, will want to solve the issue immediately (how, Zemo has no idea).

He knows, however, that he doesn’t want to ruin _this_. So when Rogers looks at him expectantly again, he merely smiles:

“I… I am glad I took your hand,” He means every word he says, and they can talk about Heinrich some other time. Rogers beams at him and leans down to kiss him longingly:

“We need to find Strucker as soon as possible, so that we can spend some time in Germany…” Rogers breaths, smiling nervously.

They could just… go. Prioritize them. But they are old enough to understand the importance of not postponing tasks with such importance, so all they can do is keep looking. In the meantime, they’ll have to rely on sheer stubbornness to stick to their deal – because Captain America and Baron Zemo, trained to hold themselves rigidly and measure every action, are losing more and more control over themselves by each passing minute together.

* * *

 

Strucker is still nowhere to be found and Heinrich Zemo keeps appearing to his son, and within a week the current baron his doubting his decision of telling Rogers about it.

Heinrich Zemo doesn’t argue, doesn’t shout, doesn’t demand, doesn’t insult and doesn’t tear down. He simply chats quietly during the little time he’s in Helmut’s bedroom, keeps saying he wants to help, is affectionate towards his son and remarks often how proud he is.

And it shakes Zemo, makes him doubt of his decision to not let his father interfere – especially because he can’t tell Heinrich about Rogers, and therefore can’t be sure Captain America will be left unscathed. The more Heinrich holds him in his arms and reassures him, the more Helmut wants to share the plan.

Thing is… Baron Zemo doesn’t want to disappoint his father, but he also doesn’t want to disappoint Rogers. So he stalls Heinrich while trying to make a decision about telling Rogers, talking to his father about the trivialities of his daily life.

Like strange electro-magnetic signals pulsing from an abandoned bunker in Poland and how he and the Avengers are going to investigate it if it keeps occurring – which does, and in the eve of Zemo’s departure, Heinrich doesn’t show up.

It should make Zemo suspicious, but he feels relieved that he won’t have to see his father while waiting for Rogers to join him for sleep.

* * *

 

The signals come from one of the rooms in the abandoned bunker, a block on concrete in the middle of the forest and rooted deep into the hill.

Standing at the only unobstructed entrance, the Avengers can’t help but look expectantly at Zemo and Rogers, studying their reactions at being confronted by a bit of their past. Iron Man is especially interested and hopes this will remind Rogers where Zemo came from and that, therefore, he cannot be trusted.

But Captain America knows Zemo is better than the men who built this bunker, and though standing there stirs a few memories, Rogers has made peace with the past and is the first to step in. Zemo follows him without batting an eye, trusting this good example of German military architecture won’t collapse on them. The others follow grudgingly, and Iron Man is slightly disappointed at how Rogers and Zemo don’t react like he expected them to.

There should be no functioning lights inside, but the ceiling lights above the stairs and along the corridor are mostly lit, and the group suspects that this bunker might not be abandoned anymore. Being in the first level, there are no puddles of water on the floor, but they can already feel the characteristic chill of concrete underground buildings:

“The sign comes from the lower level,” Sam informs, staring at the device accusing the signal source. “From a room in the end of the corridor.”

“We need to go… down? Like… even more?” Clint asks in a small voice, glancing over his shoulder, to the stairs and to the small spot of light where the entry is:

“You can stay here and guard the entrance,” Zemo says:

“We shouldn’t split, we don’t know what we’re going to find…” Tony grunts, and he needs to talk to Rogers again about Zemo trying to boss around:

“You have never been in a German bunker, have you? These walls are thick, there are armoured doors, casemates, rooms, deposits, dead ends… We will be several meters underground, with no natural light, no fresh air, no escape to the exterior! You cannot take someone who is claustrophobic-“ Zemo begins, but Hawkeye interrupts him right away, pride hurt:

“I’m not claustrophobic, I’m just… _I’m not Ant-Man_!!”

“Hawkeye, you stay here and guard the entrance…” Rogers commands authoritatively, putting an immediate end to the argument. “The others, follow me.”

They walk along the corridor, inspecting the few empty rooms on the sides but finding nothing besides litter and old German signs. At the end of the corridor is another flight of stairs going down, and in that level most of the lights are also working. There are more rooms – something that might have served as a kitchen, weapon deposits, bedrooms, casemates, narrow corners and tunnels leading to dead ends, but everything is empty. The group is careful, trying not to split or stay behind. Like Zemo said, the walls are thick and the second level is deep underground, being both chilly and humid – in some parts of the corridor there’s water dripping down the walls, puddling on the floor and filling the dark and empty corridor with a monotonous and eerily loud sound. The stagnant air is heavy, uncomfortable to breathe.

Rogers and Zemo are the only ones who have no trouble in visualising the empty bunker bustling with life, with no water dripping to the floor and listening to the echoing and clicking of heavy studded boots on the concrete floor.

The passage at the end of the corridor still has doors. Heavy, armoured iron doors, but there are no latches. Frowning suspiciously, Zemo approaches to inspect the doors and catches a shadow moving down, towards the last level:

“I saw something!” he hisses, and the others rush to him. He goes down a few steps, peeking at where he noticed movement, and nearly loses his balance when the doors slam shut abruptly, way too rapidly for their rusted iron hinges. On the other side the Avengers complain and try to open the doors, but they can’t. Zemo frowns, tries to access the situation but there’s only static in his earpiece.

So he climbs the steps again and leans on the door:

“Can you hear me?” he shouts, which is not a good idea, because whoever is in the bunker with them has certainly heard it:

“Move away, Hulk smash puny door!!” To prove his point, the Hulk starts to bang the heavy doors with his fists… but for old, rusty doors, these don’t even get dented.

Baron Zemo, a brilliant strategist, concludes they have walked into a trap – and he’s going to find out who’s the responsible for this and make them pay: nobody traps a Zemo! The Avengers will eventually manage to open the door and, when they do, they’ll find Zemo victorious after singlehandedly defeating their mysterious foe. That will make Rogers proud of him.

Besides, Tony is arguing how this is all Zemo’s doing and Zemo is not in the mood to listen to false accusations. There’s another violent bang on the doors, this time from Thor’s hammer, but still not even a dent.

As silently as possible, Zemo goes downstairs. The last level is exactly like the others, but there’s a blue light seeping through the small front opening in the casemate at the end of the corridor. Zemo immediately makes himself as closer as possible to the wall, hoping whoever is in the casemate won’t shoot at him. But no fire is open, and quickly and stealthily Zemo approaches the entry to the casemate, at the right, holding a pistol in a hand.

He leaps into the casemate, shooting blindly, only to find an empty space with nothing that could have produced the strange blue light.

“I hope you appreciate my contribution, my son!” Heinrich Zemo exclaims cheerfully, right behind the current baron, who turns around abruptly and aims at his father’s head, eyes wide in shock.

There stands Heinrich Zemo, whose masked face looks… amused. Slowly, Helmut lowers and holsters his pistol, frowning:

“What do you mean? The signal… was it you?”

“You would not share your plans, so… I improvised…” Heinrich shrugs innocently, but his son throws his arms in the air, furious:

“Father, you cannot do that!! I know what I am doing!! You must leave, now! And open those doors!! How did you even close them, in the first place??!”

They stare at each other silently, but Heinrich remains impassive, _amused_ , and eventually Helmut groans in defeat and walks up to his father, placing both hands on his shoulders:

“I appreciate, but I do not need your help!” he repeats slowly, like his father has difficulty in understanding:

“Take off your mask, my son,” Heinrich requests, so off-topic it makes Helmut narrow his eyes in confusion and grumble a curse under his breath: _this,_ Heinrich not listening to him, is sadly familiar…

But Helmut complies, pulling off his mask slowly and looking annoyedly at his father:

“Please, leave…” he requests again. Heinrich, however, seems more interested in arranging his son’s blond hair than in leaving. “Father…”

“Wanting to get rid of me, Helmut?”

At that, the current Baron Zemo shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw, then shakes his head slowly. He feels his father cupping his face and leans in to the touch:

“Of course not…” Helmut mutters, making Heinrich nod, satisfied.

“Good, very good…” There is a pause and Heinrich’s hand slips quickly from Helmut’s face to his throat. “Unfortunately for you, I cannot say the same!”

His fingers clasp around Helmut’s throat, who widens his eyes in shock and gasps, immediately holding Heinrich’s wrists with both hands, trying to kick Heinrich and free himself.

But Zemo’s struggle dies in horror as Heinrich turns into Loki, smiling maliciously at him:

“You have enemies, baron! It was not difficult to track them and convince them to help me to destroy you!” Loki laughs, delighted, holding Zemo’s throat in an iron grip. Baron Zemo snarls and resumes his struggle, trying to kick Loki and reaching out for one of his pistols. Yet Loki simply tosses him against a wall and the impact knocks the air out of his lungs. “They were most cooperative and told me about the one man that held great power over you… the one man that could _break_ you.”

Coughing, Zemo pushes himself up and tries again to wield a pistol. A powerful blast is heard, meaning the Avengers have managed to open the heavy doors and that they’ll come to help Zemo.

With a gesture of his hand, Loki has Zemo pinned against the wall again, unable to move:

“I had to see it for myself, of course… I would not want a _simple revenge_ on you, no! You will suffer for your insolence,” Loki proceeds, unaffected by the ruckus coming down the stairs. “And, for a man who arrogantly claims himself to be a genius… you are but a stupid, credulous mortal. How easy it was to beat your defenses, lure you here where I can destroy you and the Avengers at the same time, away from any possible aid you could receive!” Smiling wickedly, Loki closes his hand and Zemo falls on his knees with a yelp. “And of course… without that headband of yours…”

Loki approaches, pleased to see that Zemo is still so shocked that he’s unable to defend himself. The German merely stands on his knees, looking at Loki with a mixture of bewilderment and hate, doing nothing when Loki places a hand on top of his head:

“I will leave you here for a minute, and once I finish the Avengers, I will come back to finish you. You are allowed to see your _beloved father_ and say goodbye…”

Voices and steps come from the corridor. Baron Zemo screams in agony as a wave of searing pain threatens to break his skull. He feels sucked into a tight, dark space, where he can’t run from and where there is nothing besides that constant, atrocious pain. Suddenly there is light, many spiraling lights, and it’s nauseating and oppressive and he can’t get away from it. The lights become shapes, grow voices, and Zemo’s memories parade endlessly before his eyes: good memories, bad memories… his every memory, from the things one couldn’t humanly remember to the things Zemo made a huge effort to forget.

* * *

 

“This is a trap, Zemo planned all of this!!!” Tony complains angrily, shooting at the heavy doors to help the Hulk and Thor open them:

“That’s not true!” Rogers replies. “ _Someone_ did trap us, but it wasn’t Helmut!”

“But Steve, you must confess this is all too strange…” Black Widow reasons calmly. “It was simply too convenient that the doors shut with him in the other side…”

“And don’t tell us it was a gush of wind!” Tony grumbles.

Rogers bites his lower lip, annoyed. Fine, the circumstances are suspicious, but he’s sure this is simply coincidence, bad luck! Like… like when Zemo rescued the kid from the bank and had the entire front of the building falling on him, or when he saved Hawkeye and fell in the crack, or when he was chased by dinosaurs! Baron Zemo suffers from chronic crappy karma, he has nothing to do with this!

He wouldn’t harm the Avengers.

He would not harm Rogers.

Finally, the doors are broken and the group rushes through the opening:

“Helmut?” Rogers calls, running down the stairs ahead of everyone. Iron Man and Thor fly past him:

“There’s something at the end of the corridor!” Tony informs. Jumping the last steps, Rogers runs to the casemate, followed closely by his team. Then there’s an agonized scream that makes them stop in their tracks, horrified, only to proceed again with doubled speed. The Hulk leaps past them, roaring about him being the only one authorized to smash Zemo, and throws himself against the front wall of the casemate, not even bothering to go around through the door.

Yet the Hulk comes flying back towards the Avengers, together with debris and small blocks of concrete. Thor, Falcon and Iron Man yelp as the Hulk collides with Thor and the two bump on their other flying team-mates; Rogers stops running and crouches behind his shield, and Natasha hides behind him.

When he looks over his shield, he sees Loki walking up to them from a cloud of dust. In the destroyed casemate, Zemo is screaming and curling protectively on the floor.

“What did you do to him??” Rogers snarls and throws his shield at Loki, who ducks it and sends it back against Rogers with a gesture of his hand. But Loki fails to dodge Mjolnir, and the next second the Hulk is jumping at him with closed fists.

Zemo keeps screaming and wailing, and instead of joining his team-mates in the fight, Rogers sprints to Zemo and falls on his knees next to him:

“Helmut?” he calls worriedly, cupping Zemo’s face: his eyes are rolled back, reminding Rogers of how he found him after escaping capture. The moment Rogers’ fingers touch Zemo, he feels pulled down by an unbreakable strength, feeling like he’s falling despite remaining in the same place.

****

_Rogers finds himself in a large chamber. The ceilings are high, made of wood and crisscrossed with large beams, while the walls are made of large dark stone. He’s so startled he doesn’t pay close attention to the furnishings and decorations; instead, he studies attentively the man by the window, barely believing what he sees._

_If not for the nose – very straight – a slightly squarer face, no undercut and a single vertical scar on the cheek, Rogers would have thought he was staring at Helmut Zemo. Instead, Captain America is looking at Heinrich Zemo, years before the war and the accident with Adhesive X. Heinrich looks very young, on his early twenties, and he’s cradling a baby against his chest and pacing back and forth slowly, singing a nursery rhyme. It’s German, so Rogers doesn’t understand, but he does recognize the accent Helmut Zemo speaks with when talking on the phone in his mother-tongue._

_Heinrich completely ignores Rogers’ presence, and so does the woman who walks in the room, smiling widely. She looks very young too, but rather pale and with dark rings under her blue eyes. Now Rogers knows where Zemo’s snub nose came from – this must be Hilda Zemo, the baroness:_

_“Heinrich, he needs to sleep…” the woman says softly, walking past Rogers and intercepting her husband, who smiles apologetically:_

_“But he’s sleeping…”_

_“He needs to sleep in the cradle!”_

_“But I want to play with him…!”_

_Hilda laughs softly and carefully takes the baby from her husband’s arms. Rogers catches a glimpse of the baby’s face, sleeping peacefully and blissfully unaware of what his life will become:_

_“You’ll have plenty of time to play with Helmut, once he grows up,” Hilda tells her husband and walks away with the baby, only to have Heinrich trotting after her._

_Rogers looks around once again, confused and slightly horrified – he’s pretty sure he shouldn’t be seeing this, and considers his options: trying to find a way out of this place, or following the twelfth baron and baroness._

_But the world spins violently, making Rogers lose his balance and fall, clutching to his head._

_When the spinning stops, Rogers is lying over a fluffy carpet in a completely dark room. A storm rages outside and Rogers pushes himself up, slowly and shakily, looking around and trying to figure out where he is now._

_A door is open at the end of the room, letting in the weak light coming from a window in the hall outside the bedroom. The silhouette of a small child sneaks in, trotting quickly towards a large bed that the weak light has revealed partially. Rogers can’t see anything in detail, but he’s certain this child is Helmut Zemo._

_Rogers watches as the child hastily climbs to the bed and settles over the person lying closer, shaking their shoulder insistently:_

_“Papa?” Helmut whispers urgently. There’s a groan, until Heinrich sits slowly, making Helmut slide down a little on the blanket:_

_“What is it, Helmut?” Heinrich grumbles sleepily, and Rogers finds himself approaching the bed, still horrified but utterly curious to see_ this, Heinrich Zemo before the war _. Helmut wraps his small arms around his father’s neck and burrows his face on his chest, crying softly about being scared of the storm._

_Rogers steps back when Heinrich holds his son against his chest and slips off the bed, being careful not to wake up his wife. Carrying Helmut, Heinrich leaves the bedroom with Rogers following them close through a long and narrow corridor, with arrow-slits and high vaulted ceilings:_

_“Zemos fear nothing, my son,” Heinrich tells softly, almost making Rogers stumble on his own feet at how soothing his voice sounds. There is a room at the end of the corridor – Helmut Zemo’s bedroom, and Rogers is reluctant about getting in. He eventually does, paying little attention to his surroundings and catching a glimpse of Heinrich Zemo lying on Helmut’s ridiculously large bed with his son cuddling next to him, before the entire world sways and Rogers finds himself next to a grand piano._

_Hilda and Helmut are sitting together at the bench – Helmut sitting over a couple of pillows and playing slowly and somewhat clumsily. His mother, however, beams pride. Helmut Zemo appears to be at least four years-old, and Rogers must admit he’s impressed at such a small child braving a grand piano like that._

_Heinrich comes in the room, wearing riding clothes, and the moment Helmut realises his father is there, he leaps from the bench and runs to him, squealing in delight:_

_“Heinrich, he’s supposed to study music for two hours!” Hilda complains half-heartedly. Heinrich picks up Helmut and spins around, laughing:_

_“He can study music tomorrow, when I’m at work. I have my evening free and I intend to spend it with my son!”_

_“You’re not taking him in your horse, are you? Your horse is too big!”_

_Still paying more attention to the laughing child in his arms, Heinrich approaches his wife and kisses her lovingly:_

_“We will be back by dinner,” he promises._

_And now Rogers is falling and lands on his back. He’s outside, near a large weeping-willow by the waterside.  He ignores his surroundings in favour of crawling through the veil of leaves to see little Helmut play with toy soldiers under the tree. His mother is sitting near the tree trunk, over a towel, looking constantly from her book to her son._

_This time, Rogers can see Helmut in detail: he still doesn’t wear an undercut, having his blond hair impeccably combed, and he appears to be chubby and short. He’s very committed to his play, missing Heinrich’s silent arrival entirely, noticing him only when Hilda lets out a high-pitched laugh as her husband starts to tickle her._

_The world spins and shakes, making Rogers feel nauseous and shut his eyes. When he opens them again, he’s in an elegant dining room, sitting at a long table set with the remains of a sumptuous dinner._

_Hilda and Helmut are sitting next to him. There’s a large, round window in the wall behind the table, and it’s night outside. Little Helmut seems strangely awaken for such a late hour, devouring with appetite a large slice of chocolate cake from a dessert plate:_

_“He’s not going to sleep…” Hilda states, amused. Heinrich is standing behind her, adjusting a diamond riviere necklace around the neck of his wife:_

_“I didn’t hear you telling me not to give him a piece of cake,” Heinrich excuses with a chuckle, then steps aside to admire his work. Nodding in satisfaction, he walks away to a small table next to a large fireplace. There’s a gramophone over the table and a large German Shepherd sleeping by the fire that doesn’t even flinch when Heinrich approaches, sets the gramophone to work and a waltz fills the room. “Would you dance with me, my love?”_

_Hilda smiles widely and stands up from the table. She’s wearing a ceremony dress and heels, leading Rogers to assume the couple is either celebrating a birthday or their marriage anniversary. Helmut is still very interested in his piece of cake, but once he finishes it, he bolts from the table to the dancing couple, claiming that he wants to dance too and being promptly picked up by Heinrich._

_The world rattles, throwing Rogers off the chair and onto sand of a luxurious indoors riding arena. He manages to roll to the side right on time to avoid being trampled by a tall galloping horse, ridden by a child a bit too small for it:_

_“Keep your back straight, Helmut!” Heinrich instructs from the middle of the arena, standing with his hands behind his back and watching his son attentively. But little Helmut can’t balance on top of such a big horse, and he eventually falls off._

_Rogers is in the process of standing up to go check on the child when he falls again, landing on his chest with a huff. He can hear rain hammering on glass, and he lifts his head to see that he’s in Helmut’s bedroom again._

_The bed is way too large for such a small child, but Helmut doesn’t seem to care, cuddled up on his father, who’s reading him a book. Rogers has only time to recognise the book cover, then he’s falling again, spiraling down at nauseating speed while several scenes unfold all around him: Helmut blowing a candle from a cake almost as big as him; Helmut playing in the garden with dogs way too big; Helmut playing chess with a blue-eyed boy that Rogers is certain is Klaus; Helmut sitting behind Heinrich on horseback, laughing, and Heinrich and Hilda holding hands while their horses canter through a path in a forest; Helmut sitting on Heinrich’s shoulders and squealing in delight as his father sprints along a hallway, ignoring the surprised and amused smiles of two maids washing the windows; Helmut sitting at a table and listening attentively to a man with glasses - a tutor._

_Rogers falls on his back with a huff and notices he has narrowly avoided falling on the desk Heinrich Zemo is working at. Rogers stands up and takes a look at what Heinrich is doing: the baron is sketching something that looks like an anti-aircraft gun._

_There is a date scribbled on the paper, but Rogers notices only the year – 1932 – before Helmut Zemo, peeking at the door, captures his attention._

_Helmut must be five years-old, then. He’s still chubby, but seems taller now. Definitely bigger than what Rogers was at this age:_

_“Papa, can you come play with me?” he asks, pushing the heavy wooden door with difficulty to get in the room. Rogers steps aside as Heinrich stands up from the desk and stretches:_

_“Of course I can, my son!”_

_The two exit the office and Rogers falls suddenly yet briefly, almost losing his balance when his feet hit the ground. He’s on a lawn, there are scattered wooden swords on the ground nearby and Heinrich’s booming laughter startles him: little Helmut, whose head barely reaches his father’s hips, is trying his best to wield his father’s sword. Hilda, sitting nearby on a towel and wearing a large hat, shakes her head disapprovingly:_

_“Heinrich, he’s too young!” she complains. Her voice is hoarse and she coughs a little after speaking. Heinrich Zemo looks worriedly at his wife, but when the cough ends and she merely frowns at him, he offers her a smile – Rogers feels an unpleasant shiver, because Helmut smiles just like his father did. In fact, adult Helmut Zemo looks almost exactly like his father – facial features, expressions and the exact same shade of violet and blond of eyes and hair._

_“Nonsense, my love! He’s five; I was four when my father started training me!” Heinrich replies proudly, looking with amusement at his small son stubbornly trying to lift a sword way bigger than him._

_The world spins, but this time Rogers manages to stand on his feet. When the spinning stops, he’s again in the dining room, standing behind Helmut’s chair. Heinrich looks like he has just arrived home, still wearing his jacket and having his hair slightly dishevelled from the hat. A butler waits patiently to serve him dinner, but the baron is more interested in telling the news to his wife and son than in eating._

_Heinrich is excited, smiling widely and speaking too quickly, so Rogers can’t understand a single word. Hilda and Helmut are listening closely, looking attentively at him:_

_“… and then the Minister walked to me and handed me this letter!” Heinrich pulls an envelope from an inside pocket of his jacket and leaves it on the table. “ ‘Baron’, he said, ‘I would be most delighted to have you among our scientists!’ “_

_“Oh honey, that’s wonderful!!” Hilda chirps happily and leans to her husband to kiss him._

_Rogers looks at the envelope and clenches his jaw bitterly: the envelope is stamped with the Nazi imperial eagle with the swastika, and is dated from early 1933._

_The dining room spins, knocking Rogers off his feet, and he’s falling again through flashes of smiles and laughter, loving words and shared moments._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (seems the saga of multi-notes continues)
> 
> I'd love to know your thoughts! :'D


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, here is an update before I leave on vacation tomorrow. :'D
> 
> Thank you all again for your support!

_Rogers huffs as he sits heavily on Helmut’s large bed._

_Helmut is no more than a little bundle in the middle of the bed, surrounded by pillows of various shapes and sizes. Heinrich is there with him, with his back leaning against the headboard and his legs stretched forwards. There is a book on the bedside table – ‘Mein Kampf’, and Rogers stares daggers at Heinrich, who combs Helmut’s hair with his fingers, methodically, while talking to the boy in whispers._

_Hilda comes in silently through a lancet arch door and approaches the bed:_

_“The doctor said it’s just a cold, he’ll be fine,” she says quietly. “Come to sleep, Heinrich.”_

_"We’ve been through this before, Hilda: you know very well I’m not moving until my son is up again…” Heinrich grunts in response._

_The world bucks, throwing Rogers off the bed. He falls through a yard where Heinrich and Helmut are training sword-fighting and lands on a rose bush in the garden. Helmut is playing football nearby with a skinny and tall boy, blue-eyed and blond-haired. A man is crossing the lawn with Heinrich towards them, seemingly angry:_

_“Klaus! It’s time to go!” the man calls, putting an end to the football game. The boys hug and Helmut watches his cousin leave, visibly disappointed. Heinrich comes to stand next to him and ruffles his hair affectionately:_

_“Papa, why did Klaus leave earlier?” Helmut asks, holding up the ball to his father. He pouts as his father picks him up instead of playing football with him:_

_“Because your uncle was upset about my new, successful job,” Heinrich explains patiently and starts to walk back with his son:_

_“Don’t you want to play football?”_

_“I need to work now, Helmut. But I’ll play with you after dinner.”_

_Rogers feels his heart clench, but there’s nothing he can do. A hole opens below him and he falls, landing on his feet in Heinrich’s office._

_Heinrich Zemo is very absorbed in his work, not even lifting his eyes from the sketch he’s working on when Helmut peeks in:_

_“Papa, tea is served!” he announces:_

_“Yes, I know, your mother already told me…”_

_“But that was almost half an hour ago!”_

_“Helmut, I am busy!” Heinrich snaps, startling the boy. Rogers clenches his jaw, but the office spins and now Heinrich is building a miniature of the weapon he had been sketching._

_Once again, Helmut comes in the office, smiling excitedly:_

_“Papa, I’ve finished my lesson! Can we play, now?” Helmut bounces back and forth on the balls of feet. Heinrich doesn’t look at him, though:_

_“I’m busy, son… Go play with your mother,”_

_“Mama went to bed, she said she felt feverish.”_

_Heinrich lets out a hissing sigh and massages his temples:_

_“Not now, Helmut…”_

_The boy pouts, disappointed, but exits the office. Rogers strides after him with balled fists, wishing he could do something, anything._

_But the moment Rogers steps out of the office, he finds himself in a yard. The sound of clashing wood fills the air and, for a moment, Rogers watches Heinrich and Helmut train with wooden swords scaled to the size of the Zemo sword. Heinrich isn’t attacking fast, but Rogers still finds it a brutality to have a small child like Helmut brandishing a weapon much bigger than him:_

_“Move your feet! Don’t keep your arms so stiff!” Heinrich instructs harshly, and to incentive Helmut to do as he says, doubles the speed of his attacks. Helmut can’t defend himself, stumbles and lets his guard down, allowing his father to hit him in the arm with the training sword._

_Rogers flinches when Helmut bursts into tears, clutching to him arm. Heinrich rolls his eyes, groaning, but discards his sword and kneels in front of his son:_

_“See, this is why you must improve your technique!” Heinrich grumbles. Rogers shakes his head, clenching his jaw – Heinrich could have perfectly avoided that! “Now, let me see your arm…”_

_Rogers wants to access the damage too, but instead of being in the yard, he’s in Helmut’s bedroom. Heinrich is tucking him in and Helmut looks attentively at him:_

_“Papa, don’t you like me anymore?” he asks, and Rogers wishes he wasn’t seeing this._

_Heinrich looks confused, then his face softens and he sits at the edge of the bed:_

_“Why do you say that, Helmut?” He ruffles Helmut’s hair affectionately, but that doesn’t make the boy smile:_

_“You haven’t played with me… and you’ve been yelling a lot…” Helmut’s voice shakes and he looks down. Heinrich sighs and lies down next to Helmut:_

_“I am sorry, Helmut… But now I have a lot of work and I can’t always play with you,” He smiles, poking his son on the tip of the nose. “We’ll play together again when I finish everything, I promise. Can we do that?” Helmut nods enthusiastically and Rogers wants to look away, feeling like his heart is being ripped off his chest. “And I love you very much, my son. Never doubt that. Can you promise me that?”_

_The world crumbles and falls, dragging Rogers along. He sees Heinrich and Helmut training sword-fighting again, catches glimpses of Helmut peeking at his parents arguing, hears yells and harsh words. Rogers falls through a crowd, but in the front rows he can see Helmut and his family, can see the fascinated look on the boy’s face as he stares in awe at the marching SS soldiers, dashing in their black uniforms._

_There is more yelling and a slap, reverberating in the shocked silence that follows._

_When Rogers’ feet touch solid ground again, he’s standing next to Helmut in front of a mirror. He already has the undercut and is wearing a Deutsches Jungvolk uniform. Hilda is standing next to him, smiling widely despite looking slightly ill:_

_“Just look at you, darling! You’re so grown up, already going to school!” she coos, turning Helmut around to look at her. Helmut is radiant, though he looks slightly nervous – for a home-schooled boy, it must be terrifying to be sent to school, away from home:_

_“I’ll make friends, right?” he asks. “It would be nice to have friends to play with, now that Klaus doesn’t visit anymore and papa is so busy…”_

_Heinrich strides into the room, wearing a leather trench coat and a hat, and looks proudly at his son:_

_“Glorious,” he states, then raises an eyebrow. “But you are not going to school to make friends, Helmut. You are going to be the best.”_

_“Heinrich-“ Hilda cuts in, frowning, but Heinrich ignores her, walking to Helmut and resting his hands on his shoulders:_

_“You, Helmut Zemo, are going to be the best. Make me proud. Fulfil your destiny of greatness!”_

_It’s ridiculous to demand that from a ten year-old boy and Rogers wants to complain, but an abyss opens under his feet and he falls. There’s a train and a castle, and marching and drills, and studying and sports. Rogers is overwhelmed by the many faces in the canteen, in the hallways, in the classrooms, in the dormitories; but everyone is distant and there is no playing and company, the younger students are sheep and the older ones are hungry wolves._

_His fall slows down, but he’s still falling nonetheless when Helmut stands before Heinrich, shaking in fear. Heinrich is already wearing his costume, though currently there’s no mask on his face:_

_“I told you to excel and you dare be second in class???” He slaps Helmut across the face, sending him stumbling backwards with the force of impact._

_Rogers wants to stop right there and try to do something, but he just keeps being dragged down._

_He sees Hilda coughing blood and trying to hide it from Helmut, sitting next to her and talking excitedly about machine-guns._

_He lands on his back, in the yard, where Helmut and Heinrich are training – the clashing of metal confirms Rogers’ suspicions that these swords are real._

_He falls again, can see Helmut alone in a library, surrounded by books, looking extremely tired but forcing himself to keep studying._

_There’s yelling, a lot of it, and Heinrich is no longer working in the office, but in what looks like dungeons._

_Helmut is told he’s too old to address his parents as ‘papa’ and ‘mama’, though Hilda assures him that’s not true._

_The shrill cry of a siren shatters the silence of the night, only to be replaced shortly after by the tell-tale wheeze of shells heading down. Rogers never went through a bombing, and seeing the shells fall at a certain distance in the city and light the night with fires is… horrifying. Seeing Helmut and other young boys searching through the rubble with soldiers, policemen and firemen, retrieving wounded and corpses and helping with first-aid is heart-breaking._

_Finally, Rogers lands on his butt, next to Helmut, who’s lying on his stomach over the bed, surrounded by a lot of books and taking notes. He’s maybe around thirteen, looks exhausted but forces himself to study. Rogers notices Hilda is peeking from the door, looking thinner and paler:_

_“Helmut?” she calls softly, but her son merely hums to acknowledge her presence. “Will you join me for lunch?”_

_“I’ll be down in a minute,” Helmut promises, but still doesn’t look away from his notes. Rogers opens his mouth to tell him to stop wasting time, but there is nothing he can do – these are Zemo’s memories, and Rogers sighs in resignation as he falls again, briefly, and is now standing in the yard, between Heinrich, holding two horses by the reins, and Hilda, standing with her arms crossed next to a visibly terrified Helmut:_

_“I haven’t spent a proper day in my son’s company since you sent him to that dreadful school!” Hilda complains angrily. “And now that he’s on vacation, I want to have that time!”_

_“Don’t you think I want to enjoy his company, too? I work every day, woman! I don’t have all the free time you have!!” Heinrich growls in response, baring his teeth. “So today is my day off, and I am going to enjoy it with my son! You’ve had him for nine months straight, it’s more than enough time!”_

_Rogers and Hilda gape in shock and Helmut tries to shrink into his riding clothes. Heinrich looks sharply at him:_

_“Who do you want to spend your day with?” he asks dryly. Hilda sighs and forces a smile at Helmut, nodding in encouragement, promising she won’t feel betrayed or hurt._

_Shyly, Helmut approaches his father and takes the reins of his horse from Heinrich’s hand._

_Rogers finds himself on horseback, behind Helmut. He wraps his arms around him out of instinct, but grasps nothing. Helmut and Heinrich are cantering side by side on a rural road: Heinrich rides a massive black horse while Helmut rides a slender but equally tall grey horse – the same from his childhood:_

_“You are finally the indisputable best student in your school,” Heinrich comments casually, and Rogers sees a weight being lifted from Helmut’s shoulders. “You must keep it that way, Helmut.”_

_Rogers slips off the horse to fall through a funeral attended by just four people: Heinrich, Helmut, Klaus and his father, who Rogers believes must be Hilda’s brother._

_He keeps falling through shouting and harsh words and the clashing of swords._

_Rogers manages to land gracefully in a full classroom, where all the students are listening very carefully to what a teacher in uniform is saying. Helmut is sitting at one of the front desks and Rogers realises just how outstanding he looks with his violet eyes among so many blue-eyed boys._

_The boys are all looking at a large illustration of concentration camp badges, so big it covers the chalkboard almost completely. The teacher is currently pointing at a pink triangle:_

_“This badge is worn by sexual deviants, mainly homosexuals, but also-“ he explains while the students listen and take notes. Rogers falls again, feeling extremely relieved for leaving that scene behind._

_He sees Helmut standing before Strucker and the Red Skull, both looking attentively at him. Heinrich, in full costume, is standing next to his son and holding his shoulder in an iron grip:_

_“Gentlemen, this is my son and heir, Helmut.”_

_They seem to be gathered in an underground tunnel that shatters with the explosion of a grenade, and now Helmut is veiled by dust and screaming in pain, only to be lying in an infirmary bed the next moment, and that is where Rogers’ fall ends._

_There is only Helmut and another boy in the infirmary, and Helmut stares at him with an empty look: the boy has bandages wrapped around his head and his parents are sitting next to him on the bed. Helmut is alone, and Rogers notices a lonely tear rolling down his bruised cheek. He can’t help it and reaches out for Helmut, wanting to hold him and comfort him._

_They are in Helmut’s bedroom now, and he looks weaker than what he looked in the infirmary. He’s sunken among pillows and under a heavy blanket, and the discarded books, notebook and pencil case next to him tell Rogers that Helmut has been trying to study._

_Helmut is dozing off, but awakens fully when Heinrich comes in his bedroom, in full costume but pulling off his mask – and now that Helmut is a teenager, the similarities between father and son are more evident:_

_“What is this story of you shielding one of your colleagues from a grenade that went off?” Heinrich growls, sitting heavily at the edge of the bed, next to Helmut. “Are you stupid? Risking your life for someone else? Zemos take bullets or shrapnel for nobody!!”_

_So, Helmut saved someone from a grenade and this is what he gets._ Rogers has been right all along, there's a hero somewhere in Helmut Zemo. _:_

_“If you’re too weak to meet my expectations, put a bullet in your head instead! And save me all this trouble!!” Heinrich’s voice grows harsher, and Helmut merely hides further under the blanket and between the pillows. Then Heinrich sighs, pinches his nose bridge and with one brusque pull, uncovers Helmut. “Let me see, the letter said the wound is infected.”_

_Slowly, Helmut pushes himself up, turns his back at his father and pulls up his shirt, allowing his father to remove the gauze on the middle of his back. Rogers holds his breath – he knows those scars, almost invisible due to the super-soldier serum. Since Zemo never said anything about them, Rogers had always assumed it was a subject he would rather not talk about; so, Rogers had simply ignored them._

_Heinrich shakes his head disapprovingly at the infected wounds, cursing the infirmary at the Napola:_

_“Well, now we can only hope you’re tough enough to fight off the infection…” he concludes. Rogers can’t take it anymore and punches Heinrich in the face, hitting nothing at all:_

_“You’ve such a brilliant mind, Heinrich: why don’t you come up with medication for your own son??” Rogers shouts and tries to hit Heinrich again, with no results._

_“Can you stay with me, father?” Helmut asks quietly while Heinrich covers the shrapnel wounds with the gauze again._

_Heinrich frowns, considering, and Rogers stares daggers at him, daring the man to refuse his son such a simple thing that might be crucial for his recovery. Rogers breathes out slowly as Heinrich leans his back against the headboard and lets Helmut wrap his arms around his neck – though he doesn’t retribute the gesture:_

_“Fine, I can give you ten minutes. And don’t you ever play hero again, Helmut. Are we understood?” The answer is a nod against Heinrich’s chest._

_There is a moment of silence. Rogers merely watches, feeling his heart being ripped off him once again, wishing the Avengers will finish the fight with Loki and make this stop, save Helmut and him from this nightmare:_

_“What are you working on, now?” Helmut asks, still clinging to his father like his life depends on that. Heinrich hums, pleased:_

_“In the strongest adhesive substance. It’s just a prototype, but I believe it can be a great weapon!”_

_Rogers laughs bitterly and falls again. He feels giddy when he lands, and thankfully these are just memories or he would have been hit by a chair. That ceases his laughter and dizziness, and he watches in horror as Heinrich, in full costume and furious as Rogers had never seen him before, beats Helmut repeatedly – slapping, punching, kicking – and Helmut merely takes it all._

_Heinrich yells and beats his son and destroys the surrounding furniture, and Rogers can confirm where Helmut got his destructive behaviour from. He leaps forwards, to stand between father and son, and feels as useless as he never felt when Heinrich keeps striking Helmut through him._

_Then Heinrich stops, howling, and clutches to his face and tries to remove his mask._

_It doesn’t come off._

_Rogers has seen his fair share of dead bodies and tortured war prisoners, but he has never felt so nauseous like now. He glances over his shoulder, to Helmut’s bloodied and bruised face, to the way he struggles to breathe and how he stands painfully still, and feels the weight of the universe on his shoulders._

_Rogers has always believed Heinrich Zemo was a monster – abusing his wife and son and working for murderers. He feels no remorse about Heinrich’s fate. But now that he sees_ this _, he can’t help but wonder that, if the accident with Adhesive X had never happened, Helmut wouldn’t have been so severely beaten._

_He opens his mouth to beg Helmut’s forgiveness, but he’s falling again. He catches a glimpse of Helmut looking at a picture of him and Bucky in a newspaper, and another glimpse of Heinrich and Helmut training hand-to-hand combat way too realistically, and can also see Helmut crossing a hallway full of students while looking down, trying to hide his split lip. His fall slows down just enough for him to see Helmut smiling, delighted, as Heinrich passes down the family sword to him._

_Finally, Rogers falls heavily on his knees and groans, standing up slowly. Helmut is sitting at the dinner table, chatting animatedly with the old butler, who smiles kindly at him:_

_“-and I think father will be pleased when I tell him I’m considering applying to college in Berlin, to be closer to him!” Helmut is still wearing the black academy uniform of the Hitlerjugend, still has an impeccable undercut… but has no fencing scars on his boyish face. It’s strange to see him without the scars, and Rogers approaches slowly, drawn to him, wanting to take in his smiling face._

_He looks radiant, tall and broad and full of life._

_“I am sure the baron will approve of your choice,” The butler nods in agreement, though his eyes pity Helmut in a way that makes Rogers feel nauseous again._

_Suddenly, a man walks in the room in a soaked Hydra uniform. He brings a leather satchel and removes a letter from it. Ignoring the frown on the butler’s face, the man makes the official salute and hands Helmut the letter:_

_“I am here to inform you that your father, Baron Heinrich Zemo the Twelfth, has fallen yesterday night, fighting for the cause,” the messenger announces._

_Helmut clenches his jaw and flares his nostrils as he takes in a sharp breath. But he remains composed, opens the letter – a report of what happened with condolences from Hitler and the Red Skull – and reads it with fake calm._

_The next second Rogers and Helmut stand alone in a vast crypt, facing an empty tomb – because Heinrich’s body was never recovered. Helmut’s head is low, his eyes are shut and tears stream freely down his face. He’s clutching to the sword, the last object someone would choose for comfort._

_The world spins before Rogers can reach out to Helmut, and now they stand in Heinrich’s office. There are dozens of papers spread on the desk: accounts, reports, lists, formulas, plans, a letter stating that Helmut’s application for college has been approved._

_And Helmut is sitting at the desk, looking at all that with sunken reddened eyes, an aggression of colour in the cadaveric paleness of his face. He looks exhausted and drained of his youth, despite being just eighteen. He stands up shakily and leaves the office with Rogers trotting worriedly after him, so focused on the defeated stance of the thirteenth Baron Zemo that he pays no attention to their surroundings._

_Until Helmut is standing in an area of the kitchen where wine and beer are stored. Rogers shakes his head vehemently, only to sigh in relief when Helmut backs away:_

_“Father wouldn’t like that… He wouldn’t be pleased… I’m stronger than that…” he mutters._

_Feeling something pulling him up, Rogers catches a last glimpse of Helmut standing before the Red Skull and Strucker, both looking at him with a toxic mixture of pity and disdain._

***

Rogers sighs in relief: Zemo hasn’t tossed and turned for half an hour, which means he’s recovering. Rogers stretches, lying next to Zemo in the German’s bedroom.

It has been hours, since being pulled away from Zemo by Iron Man, having the Hulk and Thor _convincing_ Loki to break the spell he put on Zemo and coming back to the Avengers Tower. Rogers hasn’t told the others (and is not going to) what exactly happened, merely explained them he got stuck in Zemo’s memories. Thor has taken Loki to Asgard and hasn’t returned yet, and none of the others have disturbed to ask Rogers about Zemo’s well-being (or simply to ask him why he’s still in Zemo’s bedroom) – Captain America appreciates the moments of quietude that give him the opportunity to mull over the things he saw.

He feels the familiar weight of guilt: with everything he experienced, Rogers begins to wonder that maybe _Baron Zemo_ _is a consequence of his actions_. It was easier before, when Heinrich was merely an enemy, when Rogers didn’t know he had actually been a loving father and husband. He shakes his head, trying to dismiss his thoughts, remembering things became rough when Heinrich began working for the Nazis.

The Nazis are to blame, not Captain America. Heinrich himself is to blame, for having been weak and given up being a good father and husband.

But if Rogers had gotten to Zemo sooner, if he hadn’t _failed_ him… that unrequited trip to the past wouldn’t have happened. So, seems Captain America is also to blame.

Yet Rogers must admit he has learned a lot about the man lying next to him – and he can understand now, can understand and accept Zemo’s love and devotion towards his father though he still finds Heinrich undeserving.

What they have between them has also increased in significance, considering how Zemo was educated on the subject – though Rogers was told similar things, and the fact they have made it this far can only mean their feelings are real and strong enough to overcome it. Yet Rogers feels it gnawing at him again, the… _wrongness_ of it, and he can only hope that Zemo won’t feel it too once he wakes up, because now they’re too deep in this mess to go back safely and there is only them to understand each other.

Next to him, Zemo groans and opens his eyes slowly, looking confused for a moment. He grimaces and presses a palm on his head, then turns clumsily on his side so that he’s lying face to face to Rogers:

“Autsch, meine Birne…” (Ouch, my head…) Zemo groans, making Rogers chuckle a little, even if he doesn’t get it – but presumes Zemo is complaining about a headache. “Ach… _Mist_...”

“How’re you feeling?” Rogers asks, smiling, relieved that Zemo has finally come back to his senses. Rogers scoots closer and Zemo immediately clutches to him and hides his head on the crook of Rogers’ neck, complaining about a headache. That erases the _wrongness_ , but also reminds Rogers of the scenes he witnessed, bringing back concern, bitter guilt and a renewed loathing of Heinrich Zemo. “Do… do you remember what happened?” He wraps his arms protectively around Zemo, who simply remains still, growling about his headache:

“Unfortunately…” Zemo grunts in a thick accent. His mind is a mess, everything is out of place, he’ll take months to chain all these monsters again: how his father mistreated him, the loneliness and stressing competition at the Napola, the war, the death of his loved ones, his stolen youth… _his education_.

Yet Baron Zemo is a capricious man, and he’s enjoying this thing between him and Rogers way too much to simply let to go of it now. He’s also a fully grown adult and the current baron of his lineage, which means he can do as it pleases him… and Rogers pleases him.

Lifting his head a little, Zemo notices they are in his bedroom. Which means the Avengers somehow – hopefully – defeated Loki and Zemo is safe now. He sighs, cursing himself for the mess he got himself into and growling a ‘thanks’ against Rogers’ chest for having been saved.

Smiling fondly, Rogers allows silence to settle between them for a while, until he squeezes Zemo possessively:

“I’m sorry, Helmut…” he mutters, and that makes Zemo lift his head and frown at Rogers, confused:

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t get to you soon enough…” Rogers hesitates, uncomfortable to put his feelings into words, but forces himself to proceed. “Because… you mean a lot to me, and I failed you… I let Loki harm you… And I saw some of your memories too, and I feel like I disrespected your privacy again…”

Zemo clenches his jaw, alarmed by the fact that _Rogers saw his past_. Things Zemo never told him about, things he never planned to share: Baron Zemo can be generous, but not when it comes to his past.

He feels a sudden fear that Rogers might have also seen the _recent_ past and sits up abruptly:

“How far did you go?” he asks in a tight voice, looking away from Rogers.

Zemo is gently pulled down again:

“Heinrich’s funeral. And some meeting with Strucker and Schmidt, but it was vague,” Rogers tells. Zemo lets out a sigh, relieved, and only then realises just how stupid his question was.

Because if Rogers had gotten to see it, maybe he wouldn’t be cradling Zemo against his chest:

“It is not your fault, Steven…” Zemo assures, gladly burrowing his face on Rogers’ chest again.

Rogers, however, is not convinced.

And Zemo becomes aware of that.

He can ignore it; he can lie perfectly still and enjoy Rogers’ warmth while his headache fades away and he tries to arrange his mind, he can simply repeat what he said until Rogers acknowledges it – and he means it, Captain America has no fault in what happened with Loki. In fact, if only Zemo had manned up to tell Rogers about the visits of his «father», this wild trip to the past wouldn’t have happened. Yet Zemo still doesn’t need to say anything, he can leave Rogers chew on a guilt that isn’t really his to feel and simply wait for him to feel better – help him feel better, make it up for the guilt.

Or Baron Zemo can do the right thing and _tell Rogers exactly why this is not his fault_. And he knows all too well this noble gesture will bring him nothing but trouble, which is exactly what he doesn’t want.

Problem is… this _thing_ between him and Rogers, this _thing_ whose wrongness is very vivid in his thoughts again… _he means it_. Captain America certainly isn’t the noblewoman Heinrich Zemo would have wanted his son to marry, but at the same time he’s not just _somebody;_  this thing between them goes against everything he (and certainly Rogers, too) was taught, while not being wrong at all because Rogers is the archetype of what Zemo was taught and encouraged to look up to and appreciate. Zemo groans, because he hadn’t had to weight everything since he had made his resolution of diving head-first into _this_ … and he does not want to have this _wrongness_ always in the back of his mind.

He wants to enjoy the one good thing that has happened to him, without having to feel guilty and without making the same mistakes his father did. Like… indifference towards his partner.

Zemo sits up again, chewing his lower lip for a moment and not having the courage to look Rogers in the eye:

“It was not your fault, Steven…” he repeats, slowly. “… because Loki came after me, and I fell for it like a fool,” There is a pause, Rogers frowns in confusion and Zemo reluctantly tells him about the fake Heinrich Zemo’s visits.

Rogers’ confused expression changes drastically to… resentful – something Zemo had never thought he’d see in Captain America’s face. But Zemo can’t really blame him, can he? Still, he tells everything about the visits, about the false Heinrich being kind to him and wanting to help him, about Zemo refusing to let him take part in his plans against the Avengers (this makes Rogers narrow his eyes, and Zemo flinches), about his shaken resolution of telling Rogers about it, about his mistake of trusting fake Heinrich’s gentleness, about how Strucker’s escape is Loki’s doing.

A moment of tense silence lingers in the air after Zemo is finished. Rogers is also sitting, and there’s a vacant space between them that hadn’t been there before Zemo’s explanation.

Rogers, being the expert strategist he is, goes straight for the death blow:

“A plan, you say…” His tone borders aggressiveness, and Zemo knows there’s little he can do to defend himself. That doesn’t mean he’ll go down without a fight:

“Steven, I do not mean to destroy-“

“Is taking me to bed part of the plan, too?” Rogers asks with uncharacteristic coldness, but Zemo still tries to appease him:

“No, it is not! It was…” He hesitates, pondering that «collateral damage» might not be the better term to use now. “… _unrequited._ ”

Rogers merely hums, looking down, trying to order his thoughts – something Captain America won’t do anytime soon, because he’s feeling… _too much_.

So, an enemy – Heinrich, Loki, it doesn’t matter now – had been visiting Zemo in the Avengers Tower and he hadn’t bothered to tell Rogers. _Because he has a plan to destroy the Avengers_. Zemo might not have told anything in fear of driving Rogers away, but what if he was in fact perfecting his plan and this so-called enemy was in fact an ally? What if all this is still part of the plan?

What if it was _all_ a lie?

What if everyone had been right about Baron Zemo the entire time?

“Steven?” Zemo calls quietly, and doesn’t even try to reach out to touch him: Zemo knows he’s in trouble and won’t leave unscathed. Some time ago, before their _thing_ , Zemo would be yelling, would be a wrathful sight to behold because he just had a god taking revenge on him and Rogers wanting to argue right now is extremely unfair, would be trying his best to turn the table and shake off him the blame for this entire situation.

But if he did that, he would push Rogers away, they would be angry and bitter… and Zemo doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to fight with Rogers anymore, he wants them to be in a good place and with no hard feelings between them.

Baron Zemo is not a meek man, but for the greater good – _their greater good_ – this time he’s willing to take everything Rogers is going to throw at him.

Silence stretches between them, until Rogers finally looks at Zemo, his face a mask of stone:

“Did you… did you have this plan all along?” Rogers asks in a tight voice, doing his best to not show just how hurt and betrayed he feels. He knows the answer to this and growls when Zemo nods, slowly. “You… _you fooled me_!”

“Fine, I did not have the best intentions when you first brought me here-“

“It has been _a year_ since I brought in!! You’ve been fooling me all this time!” This last part is a yell, and why isn’t Zemo yelling back, why isn’t he defending himself, _why isn’t Zemo further fooling Rogers with eloquent words on how he has done nothing wrong???_

“I have not been fooling you! I changed!” Zemo replies vehemently, raising his voice just a bit. His headache is forgotten, and how come the distance between them has increased? “I changed my mind about you! About the Avengers! I changed my plans!”

“Why? What made you see me as something other than the murderer of your father, as the enemy?” Yelling. Captain America never loses control like this, and yet here he is. _Yelling_. _Hurt_ :

“Weil i-“ _Weil ich lieb’ dich!_ , Zemo wants to shout back, switching to German automatically, but refrains himself right on time, like the words he wants to say have punched his gut from the inside. These words… they mean a lot. Too much. They are sacred and can’t be said in this place, like this. No no no, Baron Zemo has this beautiful plan to say them, and he’s not giving up his plan!

“Why?? What made you change??” Rogers presses again, yelling, baring his teeth, and Zemo has never seen him like this and must admit it’s… _terrifying_.

“ _You_ , damn it!!” Zemo hisses in response, and can only hope Rogers will grasp what he means.

A moment of silence follows while Zemo and Rogers simply sustain each other’s glowers, until Rogers shakes his head and looks down:

“How am I supposed to believe you, Helmut?” he asks quietly, shaking his head slowly. “You’ve been lying to me all this time!”

“I have not been lying since…” Yeah, since when has Zemo not been lying? Since he didn’t tell Rogers about his true intentions regarding Hydra or since he opted for keeping Fake Heinrich Zemo’s visits a secret? “My feelings for you are real and honest!”

Rogers just shakes his head again: he wants to believe Zemo, but… can he really? What if the German has been using him, what if he took advantage of Rogers’ interest in him and has been playing along just… _just to destroy the Avengers, to break them apart_?

“This plan of yours… what is it?” Rogers asks after a moment, still quietly and without looking at Zemo.

Baron Zemo is a man who never admits defeat, but right now he knows he’s _done_. Rogers has trapped him, there is no way out without a fight, and Zemo doesn’t want to fight. He’s pretty sure he’ll be sent to the Vaults, but has this little hope that Rogers, good and fair and understanding, will see the little good he’s trying to do to them by simply sighing in resignation and telling Rogers about his glorious plans for Hydra and to defeat the Avengers… and how they changed drastically over the course of a year.

But Rogers just keeps shaking his head, like he doesn’t believe a single word, and that makes Zemo frown and grow exasperated:

“Do you really think I could I fake my _interest_ in you?” he grunts, and this time he tries to reach for Rogers, touch him, reassure him. Yet Rogers moves away and casts him the most pained look Zemo has ever seen:

“I don’t know… You were in a Napola, it’s not just a school…”

Zemo clenches his jaw: no, a Napola wasn’t just a school, it was a factory for elite administrators, politicians and soldiers. Zemo himself had felt the appeal of the Waffen-SS, but his wish of working side-by-side with his father as top engineer in Hydra had spoken louder:

“Even so, I was not taught to be interested in men… quite the opposite, actually…” he replies bitterly.

Yet Rogers doesn’t feel like it’s safe to believe Zemo again. He merely shakes his head and crawls out of the bed, without looking behind:

“I need to think,” he mutters and walks straight to the door, never glancing back to Zemo, and exits the bedroom.

Zemo can’t help but find curious that, months ago, when Rogers refused to join him in his Hydra hunt and suspected of him, it hurt. _This_ – breaking Rogers’ trust, having him yelling and doubting and leaving him – is also extremely painful, but it’s not an infuriating pain, spurring him into something reckless to clamp down the agony. It’s like Zemo already knew this would happen sooner or later, though he made no effort to prevent it and simply accommodated the thought of it.

So yes, this hurts and Zemo swears he feels his heart is breaking. But he can’t bring himself to do anything besides congratulating himself for being just like his father and ruining the one good thing that happened to him. A tiny bit of him nags him without feeling that he should have listened to his father and never play hero again, but Zemo dismisses it.

Heinrich Zemo would kill him without hesitation if only he was there to witness what his son became, while Captain America has left and hasn’t returned yet with the Avengers to arrest Zemo and take him to the Vaults – this gives Zemo some hope that not everything is lost, that they just need time.

He can only wait for Rogers to calm down, consider Baron Zemo’s stupidly selfless attitude of ending his secrets… and give him another chance.

In numb pain, Zemo lies down on his side, facing the door, and waits for Rogers’ return.

But Rogers doesn’t.

* * *

 

They still talk to each other – trivial matters, like «Can you pass me the remote?» - and by the way the Avengers act, Zemo is sure Rogers hasn’t shared with any of them what happened. Which fuels again Zemo’s hope on how they just need time, and for some days Zemo doesn’t approach Rogers outside civil living together as flatmates in the Avengers Tower.

Their tiptoeing around each other doesn’t go unnoticed, and soon enough Captain America finds himself cornered by a very suspicious Iron Man, while Zemo is unceremoniously kidnapped into the enclosed training area by Thor to be interrogated by Hawkeye and the Hulk.

The Avengers all demand to know _why Rogers and Zemo argued again_ ; but Rogers snaps at Tony, stating that he’s merely worried because it was Loki who helped Strucker to escape and only god knows what he’s up to now, while Zemo grumbles about how his memories might have upset Captain America and he simply doesn’t want to further disturb him. The Avengers are pretty sure there’s more to it, but interrogating super-soldiers isn’t easy, especially when they get in a bad mood.

Having the team aware that something is wrong bothers both Rogers and Zemo, because that is none of the Avengers’ business. At some point it is, because their destruction was imminent, but Rogers and Zemo feel like this is simply personal, that only the two of them are directly affected by all this mess. 

The distance is getting to them: they yearn for each other’s touch and warmth and familiar weight, their beds feel way too large and nights ridiculously long. Rogers grows moody, finding himself in a situation he had never been before and having no idea of how to cope with it; on the other hand, Zemo makes his best efforts to not let his temper take the best of him, because he doesn’t want to anger Rogers again.

Yet Baron Zemo can only take so much, and he eventually decides it’s time to approach Rogers to talk about their problem. In Zemo’s opinion this handful of days has been enough time and, for his part, he has no doubts: _he wants Rogers, needs him, shall have him_.

So Zemo knocks at Rogers’ bedroom door, early in the morning, trying to not be hurt by the fact that Rogers has withdrawn his permission for the door to open automatically for the German, while Zemo hasn’t. He makes an effort to keep his face serious when Rogers opens the door – this is the closest they have stood from each other, and Zemo crosses his hands behind his back to stop himself from reaching out for Rogers:

“Can we talk?” Zemo requests quietly, and his heart sinks at Rogers’ fretful sigh.

Baron Zemo had not totally imagined Rogers would smile at him and be a bit more welcoming, no, because Baron Zemo is very down-to-earth and totally does not let his dreams and wishes cloud his judgement.

“About?” Rogers asks, making no motion to let Zemo in his bedroom:

“You know that, Steven…”

Unfortunately yes, but Rogers doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t feel ready to. Captain America is currently a mess of contradictory feelings and ideas, regretting deeply having given Zemo a chance to better himself while at the same time wanting nothing else than patiently start over again.

Rogers has defied and lied to the people who so kindly became his family for a man who wasn’t honest with him – and perhaps would never be, hadn’t it been this incident with Loki! Rogers feels awful for this, for having betrayed his friends, for having gambled their lives. He must redeem himself, no matter how much he would like to believe that now yes, Zemo is being completely honest with him and that the _thing_ was indeed… _real_ , and that at some point Zemo was in fact being a true hero. He’s still hurt, and ironically the best remedy would be to reach out for Zemo, be in his arms, feel Zemo’s body against his.

But he can’t just do that, can he? He can’t trust Zemo that easily again, shouldn’t be willing to believe him. Because Zemo had looked… honest, had looked like he didn’t want to fight and drive them apart again, because Zemo has been so quiet these days.

Like he’s apologising. _Like he means it_.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rogers mutters, looking down at his feet. He hears Zemo’s disappointed sigh, can imagine his shoulders sagging and a sad pout on his lips:

“But… Steven-“ Baron Zemo is a patient man, it took him months to hypnotise Rogers and have Captain America leading him to Heinrich Zemo’s secret lab… but he’s tired of being patient. Zemo has been waiting for a chance at greatness all his life, and he has caught glimpses of it by Rogers’ side and with the other super-heroes – personal and professional greatness. It’s unfair that everything Zemo tries to make right turns out wrong, that his every hope is constantly crushed. He reaches out for Rogers, wanting to hold him and try to make him see his point, but Captain America moves aside:

“It was a mistake!” Rogers blurts out, and is he the liar this time, or has he finally gained some sense again?

“Why do you say that?? And if so, why am I still here, why am I not in the Vaults??”

Because Rogers loves him and doesn’t want Zemo to be taken away.

“Because I decided to give you one last chance, so try not to screw up this time!” Rogers snarls and begins to close the door. “But… but us… no, we can’t do that anymore. I can’t trust you again like that.”

No matter how much he wants to. Rogers shuts the door closed and strides away from it, to fight the temptation of opening it again and confess to Zemo he’s just still hurt, that he needs more time to sort out things, that _he wants Zemo, needs him… would like to have him_.

Outside the bedroom, Zemo simply stands there, staring at the closed door, feeling his hastily patched-up heart break again. He doesn’t know what to do with all this amount of pain coming at him in such a short period of time, so he simply stands there for a while, trying to reason, unaware that Thor, at the end of the corridor, is looking at him with a confused frown.

Stepping away from the door, just a little, sounds like a good way to start _doing something_. So Zemo takes one small step back, then another, more resolute.

Captain America has just… refused him. After remarking so insistently how much he wanted Zemo, after hypocritically stating that when someone likes somebody, likes them whole, _flaws included_. Well, Zemo can conclude now that Captain America is as dishonest as him, for he too lied since the beginning.

For a moment, Baron Zemo is furious. _He’s too good to be dumped like this_. He’s made too much sacrifices to achieve this place and it’s simply… _foul_ that what Zemo set aside is not being taken in consideration: he went against the very basic rules of society that he was raised with and that were later repeated in school, that a man belongs with a woman and that otherwise is a deviant, immoral behaviour; he disgraced his father’s hard work in Hydra and ruined his own position; he turned long-term allies in enemies; he supported situations most humiliating for a man of his category… _and he jeopardized the future of the Zemo lineage_! Strucker was right, Heinrich Zemo deserved a better son!

_Helmut Zemo doomed himself for a man!!_

Stumbling back into his own bedroom, Zemo can relish the familiar feeling of overwhelming, apoplectic rage that momentarily erases all the pain that has tormenting him. He’s his old-self again, a super-soldier set on a most important mission: to get revenge on all the humiliation his family has suffered at the hands of Captain America and the Avengers. And he’ll destroy them, and he’ll-

Zemo pauses, narrowing his eyes, thinking about _everything_ he’s been through.

And in the end realises this place he was so proud of achieving, by Rogers’ side in the world of super-heroes… was simply a consequence of the changes he made to accomplish his plans of destroying the Avengers and take over Hydra.

He never made a _real_ sacrifice to be with Rogers. He simply… seized the opportunity, satisfied a caprice, did as it pleased _him_. He never really thought how Rogers would feel if he discovered Zemo’s real reasons behind his supposedly successful rehab into goodness. He had known that sooner or later it all would come up… and he had done nothing to prevent the resulting damage.

Maybe Baron Zemo is indeed a selfish, heartless man. Maybe _he is like his father_. Maybe Rogers is right and Zemo has never, not even once, spoken the truth and been honest with himself and others. Maybe Zemo thought he had actually been in love, when in reality it was simply his Machiavellian mind showing him a shortcut to power.

Sitting heavily in his throne-like chair, Zemo is no longer sure of his own intentions and actions. All he knows is that he’s nauseous and tired, now that the wrath has burned away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :') I hope you enjoyed, these dorks will be back in about 3 weeks.  
> *I'll make them happy, I promise!!!*
> 
> Anyway, about Zemo speaking German - «weil» sends the main verb to the end of the sentence, but when *speaking*, my cousins (and me) ignore it completely because it's easier, so I have this headcanon that when speaking German, Zemo takes a lot of shortcuts (and honestly, who can blame him??)
> 
> Feedback is always treasured and appreciated!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came back from vacation and I brought angst with me! :')

“Victory was achieved!” Thor announces loudly as he removes a tray full of Leipziger Lerchen from the oven. The pastries look like they have been battered mercilessly with a hammer, and the last ones are slightly burned. The kitchen is a war zone: dough sticking to the walls, cabinets and ceiling; flour covering the counter top; a large handprint of butter on the fridge door; a tell-tale dent on the _indestructible_ countertop where the Hulk has enthusiastically worked the dough.

Hawkeye and the Hulk rush to the kitchen to help Thor lay out the pastries on a large dish, much to Sam’s amusement, who shows up to snack now that his homework is done:

“Tony won’t be happy about this,” he states, looking around to the messy kitchen and considering that he should grab something from the nearest coffee shop:

“Tony could put his genius to good use and come up with domestic robots…” Clint grumbles, arranging the pastries the fancier he can.

It looks presentable enough and Thor, Hawkeye and the Hulk – carrying the dish – trot out of the kitchen and into the corridor towards the gym.

Zemo is there, practicing sword-fighting. But he lacks his usual passion and moves mechanically, brow furrowed either in concentration or disappointment at his poor performance.

The German startles as Thor and Hawkeye grab him by the arms and force him to turn around, making him face a dish full of pastries:

“Now eat these Saxon muffins and go back to normal!!” Hawkeye demands. The Hulk glowers at Zemo menacingly and shoves the dish on Zemo’s hands.

The German forces a smile, picks up a pastry and gives it a tentative bite. There’s too much flour in it:

“I am not homesick…” he explains patiently, but can’t bring himself to turn down the pastries. Thor believes him, and he’s pretty sure Zemo’s uncharacteristic behaviour is due to something happening between him and Captain America, but since Thor doesn’t know what was going on and doesn’t want to pry, he has kept what he saw for himself and can only hope the German pastries will bring his friend some comfort.

The three Avengers merely watch Zemo to make sure he eats all of the pastries, with an expectant look on their faces, hoping that Zemo will instantly go back to being grumpy and caustic.

It has been almost a month since the Loki In The Bunker incident, and Zemo has been… not himself. Too quiet, too silent, following the Avengers around but without his charismatic annoyance… and avoiding Captain America. Nobody believes him when he says he doesn’t want to upset Rogers, who was disturbed by the memories he saw – no, there’s definitely more to all this, _because Captain America has not been himself either_.

So Thor’s, Barton’s and the Hulk’s ingenious plan is to break Zemo through his much beloved German pastries and make him confess exactly what is wrong. They just want to help.

Yet Zemo, despite emptying the dish, keeps blaming the unrequited visit to the past.

* * *

 

Rogers has successfully ( _stubbornly_ ) maintained his decision of not trusting Zemo again.

No matter how quiet and _small_  Zemo has been.

Nope, Captain America stands firm and resolute and he’s totally not discreetly watching Zemo by the corner of his eye while Tony briefs the team about the Red Skull breaking out of the Vaults and suspicious Hydra activity in an abandoned base that requires urgent intervention:

“Maybe now we can recapture both the Skull and Strucker!” Iron Man muses confidently, and in that moment Rogers’ eyes linger a bit longer on Zemo, but the German is distracted with whatever note Barton has passed him. Passing notes had always brought a boyish smile to Zemo’s lips, but lately nothing seems to make the German smile with feeling.

This upsets Rogers, because Zemo is surely keeping up an act to make Rogers pity him by how miserable he looks and trust him again. Unfortunately for Rogers… it’s working: the thought of approaching Zemo and talk to him, touch him, crosses Rogers’ mind more often than it should. Yet sadly for Zemo… Captain America won’t do it, because he’s still hurt and he’s plainly stubborn when he wants to.

Sometimes, Rogers is disgusted about how Zemo has been so quiet, making Thor, Hawkeye and the Hulk care about him when they shouldn’t, because he’s certainly using them just like he used Rogers. Rogers thinks about sharing with the others what he learned when the disgust extends to himself, because he knows Zemo is fooling them all but is doing nothing about it.

He looks away from Zemo, and deep down feels glad that the German has friends to try to cheer him up. Tony is always giving his best to put a smile on Rogers’ face, but he can’t.

“That could be a trap,” Zemo’s accented voice sounds strangely exotic, now that he spends most time quiet. Rogers looks at him again, inquiringly, but the German is staring at Iron Man, who smirks:

“So, you can multi-task! Pass notes and pay attention!”

“He’s right, Tony…” Natasha intervenes, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. “Hydra has been quiet for a while, this sudden activity is suspicious and could very well be a trap. I think we should investigate more and try to locate the Red Skull before going to this base.”

Just like Baron Zemo being quiet can be a trap, and his warning about a trap being a trap too. Rogers groans and runs his fingers through his hair: he’s tired of being constantly suspicious, of being constantly in a bad mood, of feeling an ever-present loss that stings him so much more than the loss of the world before the ice.

“And let them escape?” Tony shakes his head disapprovingly and turns to Rogers. “What do you think, Cap? Should we go, or should we wait?”

By the corner of his eye, Rogers sees how Zemo returns his attention to whatever Hawkeye is commenting with him. Why doesn’t he defy Iron Man, like he always does? Why doesn’t he even look at Rogers? Isn’t he suffering? He acts like he is, but is he really? Is this all a show? Is this all part of Zemo’s plan to destroy the Avengers – plan that Rogers hadn’t told his friends about because, with lots of work and effort, Helmut Zemo could be a hero… and because Rogers’ pride has still not recovered from the blow of everybody being right about what a treacherous man Baron Zemo is.

“We should go take a look, this might be important,” Rogers decides, because a fight will do wonders to him.

* * *

 

Baron Zemo still doesn’t have a seat in the Aven-Jet, but he doesn’t mind standing and holding to the back of Thor’s seat. Sometimes he hears Hawkeye and Falcon discussing about getting him a pink folding chair and duct-tape it to the floor, but having a seat is no longer important.

In fact, a lot of things have lost importance to Zemo.

Rogers hasn’t, though. Even if they avoid each other. This can be a trap, the first potentially dangerous situation the Avengers and Zemo walk into since the incident in the bunker, and Zemo wonders if Rogers is suspicious of him, if he’ll be angry again if anything goes wrong, if he’ll finally tell the others that evil super-villain Baron Zemo wanted to destroy the Avengers and finally end this war of nerves that Zemo has given up fighting.

The base is located on a headland, rooted to a steep cliff that falls sharply into the sea. The constant battering of waves has eroded the base of the cliff significantly, and that is why the facility was deactivated. Zemo isn’t familiar with the perimeter, but he supposes the base must have underground floors and that, if Hydra is in fact doing anything, is where the Avengers will have to go.

So, Zemo must confess he’s surprised when an anti-aircraft gun located on the roof salutes the Aven-Jet and the patio is swarming with Hydra and A.I.M. goons.

Soon enough, Baron Zemo finds himself surrounded by enemies. Between swinging his sword and firing his pistol, he realises the Avengers are ridiculously outnumbered… but it’s not like the enemy is trying to eliminate them there and then: they have separated them in different locations of the patio, they are keeping Falcon, Iron Man, Thor and the Hulk busy in opposite extremes, they are forcing Hawkeye to shoot incessantly, they don’t give Black Widow enough room to move… and they are keeping Captain America by the edge of the cliff; Hydra and A.I.M. soldiers are hardly fighting back, they avoid the blows the best they can and return to their original positions.

This is not a fight of destruction.

It’s… attrition.

“We should retreat!” Zemo exclaims, ignoring Rogers’ voice in the back of his mind telling him super-heroes don’t kill people and shooting a Hydra soldier in the head. His place is immediately taken by another soldier:

“They’ve stopped coming from the building, which means that we deal with these guys and that will be it!” Iron Man replies from his earpiece. Zemo frowns under his mask and notices an A.I.M. soldier making his way through the crowd, guarded by two Hydra soldiers, carrying what looks like a bazooka and heading towards Rogers.

Zemo knows what weapon is that and they definitely shouldn’t have come: this is a trap, and he holsters his pistol, sheathes his sword and makes way with brute force, dodging and pushing soldiers out of his way:

“Stark, stop the A.I.M. soldier with the bazooka!” he urges, giving his best to try to get to said soldier first. Zemo’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Iron Man turns around to fly towards the soldier and stop him.

Yet someone is on the roof, with the anti-aircraft gun, and is decided not to let Iron Man near the A.I.M. soldier with the bazooka.

Pushing through the crowd, Zemo repeats the order to the other Avengers, but they all have more pressing matters at hand. Zemo’s last hope is that Rogers can either move away or knock out the soldier with his shield:

“Rogers, there’s an A.I.M. soldier with a bazooka heading to you. You must stop him or move away!” he yells, elbowing a soldier in the face and pushing another out of his way.

But Rogers, by the edge of the cliff, is surrounded by so many enemies he can’t make room to move properly. Cursing, Zemo keeps shoving soldiers aside and dodging blows. He gives his best to reach the A.I.M. soldier, but the enemy keeps piling in front of him in an attempt to stop him.

Finally, the A.I.M. soldier stops and positions the bazooka on his shoulder. Zemo pulls out a knife and now yes, he’s making more progress. The soldiers surrounding Rogers part, creating an open corridor for the A.I.M. soldier to shoot at Rogers.

Baron Zemo knows what that bazooka is and he’s pretty sure he knows who’s behind this and what they want. And heck, Zemo won’t let them have it – not now, and not ever if Rogers is intelligent enough to do as he says. This is his chance to prove Rogers he _meant it,_ that this is not a plan and that he doesn’t want to destroy the Avengers anymore. Baron Zemo can be a hero, and instead of trying to reach the A.I.M. soldier, Zemo hurries to approach Rogers.

Secured in place by five Hydra soldiers, Captain America is struggling to both reach his shield, break free and move away from the soldier aiming a bazooka at him. He’s given up calling for backup in his earpiece the moment the anti-aircraft gun roared to life after Iron Man.

Surprisingly, Zemo emerges from the crowd, pushing a soldier aside and stabbing another one to more easily knock him down with his weight and momentum. Blood drips from his knife and runs down the blade to his arm, and the German darts to him. One of the soldiers holding Rogers lets go of him to try to stop Zemo, but he’s effortlessly pushed away:

“I am sorry, Steven!” the German hisses when he’s close enough to Rogers. Captain America frowns and opens his mouth to ask him why is that, to warn him about the soldier pulling the trigger and about the white beam coming at them.

But Zemo doesn’t stop near Rogers to shield him. No, he keeps running, hits him hard with his shoulder and sends him falling down the edge with the five soldiers clutching to him. Zemo can only hope there are no rocks or that one of the flying Avengers catches Rogers before he reaches the water.

There’s ringing in his ears, a bright flash of light…

“Ah, Zemo… I thought Loki had dealt with you…” the Red Skull comments disappointedly from his chair, then shrugs. “But since you are here…”

“It is _Baron_ Zemo to you, Schmidt…” Zemo grunts and looks around briefly before turning to face the Red Skull and Strucker: they are in a lab, dark and tight, and not far from the Skull’s desk there are glass walls that enclose in a small square with a stretcher and an IV solution bag filled with a dark yellow liquid. A handful of Hydra soldiers stands by the door, opposite to the desk, and aims at Zemo.

With a resigned sigh, Zemo folds his knife and keeps it, his suspicions confirmed:

“I take it you plan to kill me slowly and painfully,” he states, making Strucker laugh:

“Everything must be about you, isn’t it? Heinrich was just like that, too… No, we had thought Loki had done his part and dealt with you: we were waiting for Captain America…” He smirks, gesturing to the yellow liquid in the bag. “… but in the end, it doesn’t really matter who the guinea pig is. You probably know what is this… I was working on it little before Heinrich died.”

Of course Baron Zemo knows what is that liquid: a solution with the Deathspore virus, a lethal and highly contagious substance. There was no antidote for that in the war, and Zemo has no idea if Strucker finally came up with one now.

“I am curious to know if the super-soldier serum will save you from this…” Strucker muses, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “If it does… there are other, more traditional ways.”

“Let us find out, then,” Zemo unbuckles his holsters and scabbard and steps forwards.

His enemies might think he’s having the attitude of a hopelessly defeated man, but no: Baron Zemo is a man who can win graciously, and he has just won and is being graceful about it - Steve Rogers is safe and will continue to be an obstacle to Strucker’s and Schmidt’s plans, Zemo’s family is happy and sees him as a hero and maybe one day Rogers will understand what Zemo did and forgive him.

This is Zemo’s final moment of glory, and he’s strangely calm about looking Death in the face and maybe meeting his father in the other side.

* * *

 

Rogers hits the water with the entirety of his back. The Hydra soldiers clutching to him release him with the force of impact and hurriedly swim away, not wanting to feel the might of Captain America now that they don’t have backup.

Sinking a little, Rogers is momently too stunned to resurface right away. He can still see Zemo rushing towards him to _push him off the cliff_. Rogers could have died from the fall, had he hit the rocky outcrops at the base of the cliff; Rogers can die right now, if he keeps sinking; Rogers can still die when he goes back to the surface and the waves crash him against the cliff.

Is this it?

The final stage of Baron Zemo’s glorious plan of revenge, is it throwing Rogers off a cliff and leave him to die in the sea? Rogers must confess he’s… _outraged_. Where is the honour and drama of a final battle, looking each other in the eye, like those medieval duels Zemo is so passionate about?

Rogers needs air, urgently. He finally swims back to the surface, ignoring completely the Hydra soldiers getting away from him. He can only take in a hasty breath before the waves push him down and send him tumbling closer to the rocks, until Rogers swims back to the surface again and manages to wrap an arm around a rock, clinging to it when another wave hits him.

He holds on, gasping for air, and looks around quickly to try to find a way out. Not far from him, some of the Hydra soldiers are drowning and another one is mercilessly smashed against the base of the cliff.

“Steve? Cap?” Iron Man’s voice crackles from Rogers’ earpiece. “Hang on, I’ll get you!”

No, they need to stop Zemo first before someone else gets hurt! Rogers opens his mouth to complain, but by then Tony is already there, holds his arms and darts up with Rogers again, lading gently on the headland where all the other Avengers are gathered, looking around in confusion.

The Hydra and A.I.M. soldiers are gone:

“They were teleported by this guy with a bazooka that…“ Falcon explains, trying to make sense of what he saw happening. “… teleported himself last!”

“Bazookas don’t teleport people,” Iron Man corrects, running scans on the area. “It’s a teleporting device disguised as a bazooka! Damn, Zemo was right when-“

“Where’s Helmut?” Rogers asks abruptly, looking around with renewed attention. But there’s just the Avengers – unscathed, dry, just slightly confused by the sudden disappearance of so many enemies. The others look around too, but before any of them can say anything, Rogers answers his own question, his voice growing weaker at every word. “He pushed me away… the beam… it must have it him… and he knew what that bazooka was…”

It hits him like a train and Rogers is staggered, looking back to the edge of the cliff and again to his team with wide eyes.

Baron Zemo didn’t push him to his death; he pushed him to _safety_.

Rogers doesn’t want to think about _why_ , doesn’t want to _believe it_. He shakes his head and begins to pace back and forth, strength and command returning to his voice:

“We need to find him. We need to locate the signal of his earpiece.”

Iron Man and Falcon run scans in the area, but they find nothing:

“Can’t do it here, Cap. I need to go back to the Tower,” Tony concludes after a while: wherever Zemo is, it’s too far away and the Iron Man armour can’t track him.

* * *

 

It feels too much like when Zemo was kidnapped, with the difference that back then, Rogers didn’t have to worry about the whole thing being an evil plan from Zemo.

He doesn’t want to. He wants to believe Zemo was telling the truth and Rogers was too hurt and ignored it, and because of that Zemo did what he does best: drastic measures.

Like getting teleported somewhere.

Yet at the same time, Rogers doesn’t want to fall for it and, in the end, be wrong again. So, waiting for Tony and Sam to do their technological magic is pure torture right now, and he’s already been expulsed from the lab because the sound of his boots stomping back and forth was getting on Tony’s nerves.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Captain America comes to a halt and glances behind, to see Natasha looking at him with an undecipherable look on her face. He turns around to face her, hoping that Tony and Falcon have finally discovered where Zemo went to and Natasha is here to tell him they can all go back to the jet and go get the German.

“You seem very concerned, considering you and Zemo have been avoiding each other for the past month…” she states, but there is no suspicion or accusation in her voice. Even so, Rogers knows Black Widow is demanding answers.

Problem is… he can’t give them to her. He shrugs, attempting at being nonchalant, and the battle between super-spy and super-soldier begins:

“He’s a team-member, of course I worry about what happened to him…” Rogers replies:

“Steve, you went from sharing a pop-corn bowl with Zemo to go around the kitchen isle just to avoid walking past him. What happened?” Her tone raises a bit. “Clint, Thor and the Hulk have been trying to get answers from Zemo and all he says is that you’re upset by things you saw from his past, and that he didn’t want to bother you more; Tony, Falcon and I have been trying to get answers from _you_ and you come up with the memories excuse-“

“Because it’s the truth!”

“Well, we’re _not_ buying it, Steve!” Natasha widens her eyes and spreads her arms, then rests her hands on her hips, firmly. “You were the first to preach about Zemo’s innocence, even when you knew better than any of us about his past and what he stands for. And now you say you’re disturbed by his _memories_? What was there that was so bad??”

Super-spy: 1

Super-soldier: 0

With a groan, Rogers pinches his nose bridge and looks up to the ceiling, looking for a way to escape Black Widow’s interrogatory. He clenches his jaw, stands still and silent for a moment, and when he speaks again, he keeps looking to the ceiling:

“Fine, you’re right, it’s not the memories…” Rogers moistens his lips and finally looks back to Natasha, already smiling victoriously. “It was something else, something private between Helmut and me, and for once I’d like to have a life of my own, besides being just an Avenger!”

Because, for the first time since… _since the war_ … Rogers had a life; he wasn’t just a super-hero, saving the world one mission after the other, talking constantly about super-hero things with brief breaks to talk about normal subjects with other super-heroes, and didn’t just spend his little free-time drawing or reading. No: he had plans to visit museums with Zemo, and travel to Ireland and Germany together, and ride on horseback, and there had been affection and intimacy.

For a while he had been… Steve Rogers, a man. Not just Captain America, the super-hero.

And for once he had secrets of his own. Things he didn’t share with his team, unlike… unlike everything in his life so far. He opened to Zemo in a way he hadn’t for anyone else, not even Peggy, and had the bravery of becoming something he had always believed wrong.

And he had lied. Is still lying. Still keeping secrets. He’s being an ordinary man, making mistakes… unlike the ever-righteous Captain America.

And he’s ashamed. Ashamed of lying and of what he became, and he doesn’t want that anymore: he wants Zemo by his side, so that he doesn’t feel wrong; he wants them to be in a good place again and get rid of all this overly-protective prying from his friends. He wants to have a life again, be just a man and enjoy a little the world that gives him so much trouble to protect and better.

Yet to have that… he needs to keep lying, needs to hide what he is. Because the Avengers would never let it happen again if they knew how far he and Zemo are willing to go… and if they knew what Zemo told Rogers.

Rogers is still hurt about being deceived… but truth is that none of the Avengers has been harmed by Zemo, and deep down Rogers _knows_ Zemo meant their thing.

Or did he?

Slumping his shoulders and leaning against the wall, Rogers allows exhaustion to wash over him: he’s so tired of feeling constantly angry and bitter and suspicious and revolted… how can Zemo do it and make it look so easy?? Rogers wants to have peace again, wants to be happy and relaxed like he used to be.

Ironically… only Zemo can give that to him.

_They must talk. Urgently._

With a sigh, Rogers looks again to Natasha, who’s simply observing him in silence. Only her lips, pressed in a tight line, give out she wants to say something, ask more, pick out the scab and open the wound. Straightening up, Rogers resumes to pace back and forth once more, just for the sake of having something to do:

“Please Nat… This is about Helmut and me,” he mutters.

Running out of the lab, Falcon almost bumps into Rogers while he paces around:

“We tracked Zemo, he’s in Bavaria!”

* * *

 

The signal comes from a lonely warehouse by the mountains with the Austrian border. It’s a rural area with nobody in sight – except for the two Hydra sentinels playing cards, unaware of the stealthy approach of the Avengers.

With the guards dealt with, the Avengers quickly search the perimeter and find a trapdoor inside the warehouse, leading down. There are no more Hydra soldiers in sight, but they might be hidden.

Rogers goes down the stairs first. He’s determination incarnate: he’ll rescue Zemo, they’ll go back to the Avengers Tower, they’re going to sit down together and talk. They’ll talk about how Rogers feels about Zemo deceiving him, about Zemo’s changed plans, about the distance between them, about the mess they got themselves into, about how they’ll work this out.

The corridor is empty. Going left, the Avengers find a dead end, so they go back and turn right after the stairs, finding a long and steep ramp going down:

“What’s up with Germans and living underground?” Hawkeye whines from the rear of the group. “We should have brought Ant-Man!”

They walk down, with Hawkeye following reluctantly. They meet no opposition, and Rogers immediately grows suspicious and fears they have walked into yet another trap. Worse, Zemo might be the mastermind behind all this, he might-

“They’re all in there!” Iron Man says, hovering next to Rogers and pointing to one of the doors at the end of the corridor, the one in the middle. “I’m catching eight heat signatures and the signal of Zemo’s earpiece comes from there.”

“Let’s get Sock-Face and leave this place before Bow-Man bursts into tears!” And the Hulk leaps forwards towards the door. Hawkeye grumbles without feeling that he just doesn’t like underground places and trots after the charging Avengers, ignoring the amused smirk Black Widow gives him.

Breaking the door with a kick, the Hulk steps aside to let Iron Man, Falcon and Thor fly into the room. Rogers and Black Widow run in right after them, the Hulk follows and Hawkeye remains by the door, guarding it – he’s totally not refusing to go down _yet another set of stairs_.

The lab is small and tight and the Hydra soldiers by the door were caught off guard and are trying their best to contain the invasion, but with little success. Knocking down an opponent with his shield, Rogers can see two men in hazmat suits inside an enclosed area, one of them monitoring what is happening in the lab and the other leaning over someone lying on a stretcher.

When the second man moves away from the stretcher, Rogers can see Zemo lying down quietly, with an IV in his arm and a bag half-filled with a dark yellow liquid hanging over him. The men in hazmat suits rush to a door concealed among the glass walls that leads into a secret passage, and disappear.

Rogers isn’t worried about the escapees – Baron von Strucker and the Red Skull, he’s sure it’s them. No, his attention is fully on Zemo, lying motionless on the stretcher. Why isn’t he trying to release himself, now that the Avengers are here? He’s not even restrained!

_Why isn’t he moving?_

Like the calm before the storm that fills the fields with deafening silence, so dies the fight around Rogers as the Hydra soldiers are quickly knocked out and neutralized.

And Captain America is the storm, building and emanating tension as he stares petrified and with wide eyes to Baron Zemo, lying still, like he’s…

Like he’s in a place where he can’t talk to Rogers anymore.

The storm unleashes, an inhuman sound that resembles a roar but is full of pain. Rogers had no idea he could make such a sound, nor that he could bolt this fast towards the glass walls separating him from Zemo.

He would have dived head-first against the glass if Iron Man hadn’t tackled him to ground and pinned him down with the aid of his propulsors:

“Steve, wait! Didn’t you see they had hazmat suits? You can’t get in there just like that!” Tony exclaims, having to yell to speak over Rogers’ wild grunts. Seeing Iron Man can’t control Rogers, the Hulk comes over and carefully holds Rogers’ arms and lifts him from the ground.

Captain America wriggles and kicks to try to free himself and get to Zemo, grunting and snarling about how the German is irresponsive and how _he needs to get to him_. Can’t anyone see that Zemo needs help??

The Avengers stare in shock, having never seen Captain America like that. The Hulk frowns and tightens his grip on Rogers, or he might successfully squirm away and break the glass to get to Zemo. Iron Man wastes no more time and approaches the glass to scan the enclosed area with his armour, but the results are inconclusive: the liquid in the bag and being injected in Zemo’s bloodstream is unknown, and the AI in the armour can’t decide whether is safe to walk in or not. Only human discernment can, and since Tony noticed hazmat suits were being used, so whatever is getting in Zemo’s system cannot be good.

Renewing his efforts to free himself, Rogers finally lets out understandable, human sounds:

“Let me in! I’m a super-soldier, I can handle it!” That’s why Rogers is a super-soldier, right? So that he can take what the ordinary soldier can’t:

“Not so fast, Cap! Zemo’s a super-soldier too, and it doesn’t look like he’s handling it…” Tony replies cautiously, because they need to get the German out of there and soon, before that dark yellow thing is completely in his system… but Iron Man doesn’t want his team to take risks.

Thor steps forwards with a decided look on his face:

“I am a god, the son of Odin! I shall aid our friend!”

Rogers wants to complain, because it’s _him_ who should save Zemo, it’s both a right and a duty! But Tony has a point – the super-soldier serum in Zemo’s system clearly isn’t doing anything to protect him from whatever that dark yellow thing is, and Thor is a _god_. It’s with hurt resignation that Rogers watches, feeling useless, as the Asgardian opens the nearest door into the enclosed area (all the other Avengers step back) and goes in.

“Shall I remove the little tube from his arm?” Thor asks and is already reaching out for the tubing:

“No!” the Hulk instructs. “We don’t know what the yellow thing is! Just close the roller to stop the liquid to get in Sock-Face’s blood!”

All the Avengers look at the Hulk, visibly impressed, but the Hulk merely shrugs:

“Sometimes I forget there’s a genius in there…” Tony muses:

“What is the roller?” Thor asks, squinting his eyes at the IV bag:

“That button over there!” the Hulk instructs:

“The one that looks like the switcher of electricity?”

“Yeah!”

Rogers groans and _why didn’t the Hulk go, if he knows so much of this stuff??_

Thor does as he’s told, but there is still a bit of substance in the tubing. He can only hope this won’t make much of a difference, and he bends over Zemo and rests a hand on his shoulder:

“Helmut?” he calls in his booming voice and shakes him a little. The German keeps his eyes closed, but he grunts and turns his head slightly towards Thor, who looks over his shoulder, smiling to the other Avengers. “Our friend is alive!”

Rogers wants to feel relieved, but he can’t. Why is Zemo lying so still? Why isn’t he even opening his eyes? Why isn’t he talking? He wants to try to reach him by the earpiece, but the Hulk is still holding his arms and he can’t switch on the device.

In the enclosed area, Thor looks at Zemo again, still smiling, and squeezes his shoulder reassuringly:

“Fear not, Helmut! We shall get you out of here!” he promises.

Finally, Zemo opens his eyes, but he can’t keep them open for long. His breathing is deep and slow, like he’s asleep, and he’s still unmoving. Thor frowns a little and squeezes Zemo’s shoulder harder, like he can pass on some of his strength to the German.

When Zemo finally speaks, his voice is weak and there’s a slight slur to it. Thor’s frown increases with what he hears.

Outside the enclosed area, the Avengers wait expectantly. When Thor steps away from Zemo, all the Avengers approach the glass wall eagerly – Rogers is still being held. The Asgardian doesn’t exit the enclosed area, looking worriedly at his friends through the glass:

“Captain, Helmut merely said Deathspore virus. What is it?”

It’s the last thing Rogers wants to hear. He casts a horrified look at the German, having all his doubts about this being just another of Baron Zemo’s schemes swept away.

How he wishes he hadn’t doubted, that Zemo hadn’t pushed him off the cliff… that he had held Zemo and the two of them had fallen.

Zemo would be safe, then. And would not be dying. Because he’s dying, and there’s nothing Rogers can do to save him because there is no antidote to the Deathspore virus.

Or there wasn’t, back in the war.

This feeble hopeful thought is the only thing that keeps Rogers from howling in pain; instead, he starts wriggling and kicking and trying to free himself to join Zemo, even though he now understands why the enclosed area and the hazmat suits.

That doesn’t mean, however, that he wants to acknowledge the danger.

Since Captain America isn’t being helpful right now, Iron Man decides the right thing to do is to call S.H.I.E.L.D. for medical backup. And while they don’t get here, he requests F.R.I.D.A.Y. to research this Deathspore thing.

* * *

 

The Avengers knew, from the moment that Rogers explained his plan to them, that Baron Zemo would be a handful of work and maybe would drag the team to an extreme roller-coaster of negativeness.

Watching Zemo being evacuated by agents in hazmat suits through a containment corridor and into a small medical jet outside surely wasn’t in the Avengers’ plans. Leave alone feeling genuine concern for him.

Though the way Captain America is acting is _way more concerning_.

Rogers still doesn’t seem to grasp that going near Zemo right now – and in the near future – is dangerous: he keeps struggling to release himself and rush to the German, he demands to go with him in the medical jet, he’s not even aware he’s hitting (and hurting) the Hulk in the process of struggling for freedom. All Rogers cares is that Zemo is dying, is being taken away from him and not knowing that Rogers isn’t angry at him anymore.

Well, he’s still angry for having been lied to, and he still feels hurt… but that is secondary now: the man Rogers shared so much with is dying because he did mean his feelings for Rogers and wanted to protect him, otherwise it would be Rogers going into the medical jet on the stretcher.

Thor, for having been near the German, is also escorted through the containment corridor and into the jet, and is going to stay in quarantine while S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors try to figure out if he’s in danger or not.

And that is the most unfair thing Rogers has ever witnessed, because _it should be him_ in that jet, by Zemo’s side, making sure the doctors will make everything they can to save Zemo. He should be with the German, promising him he will be fine, even if the two of them know that isn’t true.

Yet Rogers doesn’t want to believe that. Since there’s still Deathspore virus in the IV bag, he clings to the thought that because Zemo didn’t get the entire dose, he’ll make it. And then they’ll have time to talk.

But maybe Zemo will need Rogers by his side, maybe he’ll have more strength to fight if he knows Rogers _is there for him_.

“I need to go with him, let me go!!” Rogers demands from the umpteenth time, insensitive to the Hulk’s grip tightening on him out of irritation and to his own tiredness for being in a constant struggle.

“You’re not going to stand near a biohazard, Steve! It’s too dangerous!” Tony is getting tired of repeating himself. And wasn’t Rogers so upset that he was even avoiding Zemo? Why this sudden eagerness of going with him? Instead of making a show of himself, Captain America could be helping by telling what the heck is this Deathspore thing, since F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s research came up with nothing. “And stop kicking the Hulk!”

“You don’t understand, I have to be with him!” Making a pause to take in a deep, steadying breath, Rogers goes back to struggling again.

Natasha and Hawkeye watch, exchanging looks and looking around casually, each with their own thoughts. It’s getting dark, colder and mist is crawling down the mountains. Zemo and Thor are already in the medical jet and the containment corridor connecting the lab to the jet is being disassembled to be packed in another jet.

Sighing, Natasha walks up to where Iron Man and the Hulk are standing; the Hulk is growing more and more annoyed by the wriggling super-soldier he’s holding:

“Let him go,” Natasha says quietly, surprising the Hulk. Yet he doesn’t question her and is more than pleased to release Rogers, who falls to the ground and nearly loses his balance. Tony, however, is not pleased and lifts his faceplate, glowering at Natasha. Falcon, near Tony, decides that Hawkeye looks quite alone, away from the group, and heads to the archer.  In the meantime, Natasha is not impressed by the disapproval written on Tony’s face, and she merely turns her back at him, calls for a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and instructs him to give Captain America a hazmat suit and guide him into the medical jet.

Iron Man wants to argue, wants to stop his best friend from getting near Zemo and, who knows, get contaminated by whatever that Deathspore virus is! Yet Rogers is gone the moment the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent calls him to the medical jet, without even looking back and thanking his friends for caring so much for him and trying to stop him from getting himself killed.

“Why did you do that??” Tony asks, aggrieved, and now he needs to get himself a hazmat suit too and follow Rogers just to be sure that he doesn’t do anything stupid like getting contaminated.

Black Widow replies without looking at him:

“Because something happened between Steve and Zemo, and I want them to sort it out,” She finally glances behind, arching an eyebrow and daring Tony to defy her. “Don’t you want to see Steve back to normal?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and please let me know your thoughts on this!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank yooooou all for your support! For sticking with these idiots through it all! ;-;  
> I promise I'll stop hurting them! :'D Eventually.

Rogers watches with an empty look as Zemo lies still on a hospital bed, alone in a small quarantine room. There is a thick wall with a tiny window between them, and Rogers is only waiting for the doctors asking him everything he knows about the Deathspore to be done with their interviews, so that he can go in, sit next to Zemo…

And wait.

The German had lost consciousness when he got to the medical jet, so he doesn’t know Rogers is there; shortly after he started convulsing, his breathing increased and so did his heart rate, despite keeping low blood pressure.

Now Zemo requires intubation and aid of mechanical respiration.

Since arriving to the medical facility, Zemo has convulsed severely from time to time, and drooled, and stopped breathing, and the nurses and doctors have rushed in and out to do what they can. In those moments, Rogers was a coward and looked away.

He doesn’t know if there’s an antidote to the virus, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s records about it are dated from the war and basically a repetition of what Rogers has been saying and the doctors don’t want to give Zemo anything because they don’t know how regular antidotes, the super-soldier serum and the virus will react together.

So, things aren’t bright right now.

When the doctors are finally over with the interviews, Rogers puts on a new hazmat suit and gets in the quarantine room.

It feels like a void, despite the monotonous yet regular beeping and wheezing of the machines connecting Zemo to a rather feeble life. Rogers has lost track of time and feels exhausted. In that small quarantine room, there is nothing besides the bed and the machinery – Rogers sits at the edge of the bed, carefully, realising this is the closer he and Zemo have stood since Zemo knocked on Rogers’ bedroom door and asked to speak with him.

Rogers wants to reach out for the German and touch him, but he has the feeling that at any moment, the Avengers are going to show up to take him home. He grins sadly, actually surprised that Tony just let him come along, and makes a mental note to thank Natasha for her help.

Instead of reaching out to Zemo, Rogers looks at the machinery connected to him. For the time being, Zemo isn’t convulsing or drooling, but his vitals are weak and he looks too pale and too sweaty. His breathing is laboured despite the aid of the ventilator, but at least he’s breathing.

This calm gives Rogers hope that Baron Zemo will make it, just like he made it through the overdose of sedatives. Rogers sighs and clears his throat:

“You need to get out of here,” he states, loud and clear, yet his voice sounds weak and shaky in his ears. “We need to talk. About us.”

Nothing, not even the slightest twitching of muscle, and Captain America must confess he’s disappointed, even if he knows the situation is severe. Rogers chews on his lower lip for a moment, before adding:

“Haven’t you hurt me enough?” His voice cracks, and he pauses.

It just becomes worse the moment Zemo’s phone, tucked away in a plastic bag together with his suit, under the bed, starts to ring. Rogers shuts his eyes and hisses:

“Damn it, Helmut! Why do you always leave this to me??”

Kneeling and bending a little, Rogers finds the bag and rummages through it, until he finally finds Zemo’s phone. And of course it’s Klaus wanting to talk with his cousin, and Rogers wishes these devilish objects were never invented. With a steadying breath, Rogers answers the phone:

“Hello? It’s me, Captain Rogers,” He needs another breath. “I… Helmut is in the hospital… again.”

Klaus doesn’t seem impressed:

“What did he do this time?”

“He…” Saved Rogers’ life by getting teleported to the Red Skull’s and Baron Strucker’s presence and getting a deadly virus injected in his bloodstream? Also, there’s no known antidote for said virus? “He was poisoned…”

There’s a pause, and when Klaus speaks again, he sounds like he’s trying to not understand the gravity of the situation:

“I see. Is it worth catching a plane to visit him, or do you think he’ll be throwing a tantrum once he wakes up, like the last time?”

“I don’t know if he’ll wake up…” Rogers blurts, and saying it out loud has a foul taste and puts a weight on Rogers’ shoulders that makes him hunch his back in defeat. He doesn’t care anymore about the Avengers showing up and he holds Zemo’s hand – but with the hazmat suit between them, it’s not satisfactory:

“Where should I go, Captain? New York? Washington?” There’s urgency in Klaus’ voice. Rogers doesn’t want that poor old man to see his cousin like this, but if there’s someone more fitting than Captain America to stand by Zemo’s side now… it’s his family.

And Rogers isn’t sure he’s still part of it, or if he ever was.

“New York. Call me when you arrive and I’ll pick you up.”

* * *

 

What time is it, seven a.m.? Why is everybody in the kitchen, the Avengers never wake up this early when they don’t need to. Only people like Captain America are early birds. And Baron Zemo, but Baron Zemo is alone in a hospital because Rogers’ friends showed up to pick him up and bring him home claiming he needed rest and there was nothing he could do about it.

Did Zemo even made it through the night? Or is Klaus arriving the next day to see a dead body?

Rogers sits at the kitchen isle, looking around his friends’ serious faces: there is no banter, no bickering, no fighting and arguing over food and cartoons on the TV. Only Tony, walking around and serving everyone pancakes, looks like he’s tougher than the others:

“You guys hurry up, we gotta go visit Thor. Maybe we should take him his cereal? He probably didn’t like the hospital food…” Tony muses and a pancake materialises in Rogers’ dish – yet Captain America doesn’t touch it.

Yeah, they need to make sure Thor is doing fine… _but what about Zemo??_

“… and I thought that, on our way home, we could go shopping for new Christmas decorations and-“

Iron Man keeps talking about Christmas, in the hope it will boost everyone’s mood. But it just makes Rogers’ stomach twist and knot and the pancake in his dish looks incredibly nauseating.

Is it Christmas again? So soon? But it can’t be Christmas with Zemo dying in the hospital! No, especially because Rogers had thought -before that dreadful argument- about inviting at least Klaus to spend the festivities with the Avengers, so that Zemo would have his family with him too! It just… it can’t be Christmas again, not when Rogers’ special someone isn’t there for him!

He stands up hastily and walks into the lift, ignoring Tony calling for him.

When Captain America is gone, Tony looks around, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline:

“Right, Widow: do you have any logical explanation??” He puts down the pan on the stove, angrily, and wipes his hands at the front of his sweater. “Because he looks more and more like me when I was a stupid angsty teen, than… than _Captain America_!!”

“Tony… don’t you think Steve has been Captain America for too long? He kinda deserves a break…” she replies quietly. Her chat with Rogers the previous day was enlightening, despite Rogers not telling everything:

“Yeah, he’s probably grieving or something…” Hawkeye nods, then frowns thoughtfully. “You know… I think I’ll be… sad… if Zemo dies.”

The Hulk and Falcon nod slowly, looking down at their dishes and suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. Tony groans, exasperated:

“Ok, Zemo wasn’t that bad, just… annoying. If he’s gone, I’ll miss a little that particular pain he gave me, but it’s not like we’ve lost a friend!”

“But Tony… for Steve, Zemo _is_ a friend!” Natasha exclaims. A very close friend. Very close. How come everybody knows that but somehow didn’t realise it?

“And a piece of his past,” the Hulk muses, and decides he’s still hungry enough to eat that pancake. And maybe Rogers’, since he left. “Hulk thinks that’s why Cap likes Sock-Face so much.”

“Yeah, they can talk about old men’s stuff…” Hawkeye agrees.

Rolling his eyes, Tony sighs in exasperation and crosses his arms: fine, Zemo might have this little bit of extra importance for Rogers because, as Hawkeye has brilliantly put it, _old men’s stuff_. And okay, Tony might have not been willing to listen when Rogers tried to explain him why he cared so much about Zemo and why it totally wasn’t hypnosis/evil plan and maybe that’s why he might sound so uncaring right now.

* * *

 

Arriving to the S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital, Rogers goes to visit Thor first. His quarantine room is on the opposite end to Zemo’s room, and Captain America can’t help a smile when he stops by the window on Thor’s room and finds the god sitting on the couch and watching cartoons peacefully. It’s almost a shame to interrupt, yet still Rogers knocks on the window.

Thor turns his head and smiles at him, then jumps to his feet and trots to the window:

“How are you doing, Captain? And what about Helmut?” he asks, the window doing little to muffle his booming voice. Rogers’ smile dies:

“I’m going to check on Helmut, now. He was… weak… when I left him, yesterday. And how are you?”

Thor choses to ignore that Rogers hasn’t answered about _how he feels_ :

“I am as healthy as always! The food is miserable, though…” This last statement makes Rogers smile again:

“I think the cavalry will show up later with your cereal…” he assures, making Thor sigh in relief.

Now that he’s made sure Thor is alright, Rogers can cross the corridor… and go check on Baron Zemo.

He’s afraid of what he’ll find, especially when he sees someone exiting the room with their hazmat suit still dripping disinfectant. Putting on a brave face, Rogers approaches the doctor. At first, the doctor doesn’t recognise him – he’s not wearing his suit, but once he asks for Baron Zemo, the doctor pulls off the headpiece of the suit and nods in acknowledgement of his person:

“Baron Zemo went into cardiorespiratory arrest a few hours ago, but there were nurses checking on him and the medical staff was able to intervene in time,” the doctor tells, and Rogers never had his hope ripped off him and then immediately smacked back into him this fast. “He’s stable, now. But his vitals are still too weak.”

* * *

 

Shortly after Rogers is sitting beside Zemo, at the edge of the bed. He’s sitting with his back turned to the tiny window, so that nobody can see him holding Zemo’s hand, and he’s facing the door, so that he can let go immediately if someone shows up.

Rogers wishes there wasn’t a hazmat suit between them, that he could feel Zemo’s hand on his and that he could lean over the German and rest his forehead on Zemo’s, maybe even nuzzle him a bit. Rogers had missed their moments together before, but now that he might lose it all irremediably, he’s way too aware that he craves Zemo’s touch, warmth, weight and voice.

The thought that he might never hear Zemo’s German accent again, the authoritative way he called ‘Steven!’, his carefree laughter, his indignant gasps and the little sounds he made when Rogers kissed him in more sensitive spots has Rogers shrinking into the hazmat suit with the weight of guilt on his shoulders.

He shouldn’t have pushed Zemo away.

Captain America is the good guy that _never_ pushes people away, he’s always looking for the best in them. That’s why he wanted to rehab Zemo in the first place.

And Rogers should have seen that Zemo eventually told him the whole truth and endured his anger.

Yet he didn’t, and the result is this.

The door at the other end of the room opens and the Avengers come in, one by one, all in hazmat suits. Since there are no suits big enough for the Hulk, he’s standing outside, watching through the little window. Rogers lets go of Zemo’s hand immediately the moment he hears the door, and looks up at his friends coming in to stand aligned at the other side of Zemo’s bed – except for Hawkeye, who walks over to the machines sustaining Zemo’s life and duct-tapes one of his hand-made Zemo stickers to it. It does the trick and makes Rogers chuckle:

“So, how’s he doing?” Falcon asks. That kills Rogers’ amusement, and he tells the Avengers about the incident from hours before that could have ended badly if the medical staff hadn’t showed up in time:

“I think I just… should stay here with him,” Rogers mutters. The nurse checking 30 in 30 minutes isn’t enough.

The Avengers exchange looks. Tony Stark can feel a pair of Russian eyes piercing through him to glower menacingly at the very core of his soul, and he sighs in defeat:

“Well… if that makes you happy… then I’ll show up at lunch and dinner to make you company…”

Even with the headpiece of Rogers’ hazmat suit obscuring his face, Tony can feel his friend beaming and smiling at him like he hadn’t in a long time. More precisely… since he saw some of Zemo’s memories.

Heck, if Zemo makes it, Tony Stark is sitting down with Baron Zemo and Captain America and demand to know _exactly what_ was so upsetting in Zemo’s memories to leave Rogers like this.

“The Hulk wants to know if he can tell Thor that Zemo’s okay,” Natasha says. Rogers nods, and watches as the super-spy exits the room. Falcon and Hawkeye go with her, leaving Tony and Rogers alone with Zemo.

An awkward silence lingers in the room before Tony starts pacing back and forth:

“So… they took blood samples from Zemo?” he asks casually, and Rogers shakes his head:

“No. The Deathspore… it’s contagious once there’s contaminated blood outside the body: nobody wants to risk to take a blood sample from Helmut…”

“So… I’m wearing this ridiculous bin bag for nothing??” Tony stops pacing and raises his arms. “I mean, I can understand that the Skull and Strucker had to wear this to fiddle with the virus, but…”

That makes Rogers laugh sadly – Tony has no idea of just how much he wants to discard his hazmat suit:

“The doctors are afraid he might have nosebleeds.”

“Aw, gross…”

Another moment of silence follows, until Tony walks up to Rogers and rests a hand on his shoulder:

“Listen, Cap… I’m sorry about Zemo. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s already got people looking for the Skull and Strucker, and in the meantime I’ll see if Bruce, Sam and I can come up with something for Zemo, yes?” Gosh, the things Tony Stark does for his best friend…

Rogers just nods, afraid his voice will betray him.

* * *

 

“How did it happen?” Klaus asks quietly.

He stands shoulder to shoulder with Rogers, both looking down to Zemo. The German is stable, yet his vitals are still too weak and he convulses a little at times. Klaus spots the «Zemo sticker», but doesn’t comment:

“It should be me in this bed. Helmut pushed me away…” Rogers tells briefly. Since picking up Klaus at the airport and bringing him to the hospital, Rogers has been asking himself if Klaus knows what happened between Captain America and Baron Zemo. The thought that he might know makes Rogers feel awfully ashamed of himself – dirty, even – and brings back all the wrongness of it; yet the thought that Klaus maybe doesn’t know gives Rogers the feeling that he’s a heartless pretender – lying to Zemo’s elderly cousin and to his friends.

Klaus is silent for a moment. He’s impressively tall for a man of his age, and he stands rigidly and straight without his cane. He’ll grow tired soon, but for now, the man inside that hazmat suit could well be a super-soldier too, were he not so skinny:

“He found me, after the war. Our fathers had forbidden us to write each other, and I tried to forget I had a cousin in Nazi Germany, that he was a happy sheep in the herd,” Klaus tells, slowly. “But one day, I came home with my wife and our new-born child… and there was Helmut, waiting for me in the living room. He tracked me down and wanted to make up for the lost time.”

Rogers shifts uncomfortably, because he knows that Helmut Zemo is a good man. It’s just a little hard to get to his goodness, but once there, there’s no way of denying it:

“So he was part of my life, again. One day, I managed to convince him to come to the beach with us. A rocky beach in Devon, there was no way that idiot would complain about sand,” Both men chuckle. “He was still reluctant, but eventually joined us in the water… and I saw these very ugly scars in the middle of his back. I was intrigued, and I asked him about them.”

Swallowing becomes difficult, Rogers feels his throat tightening and his mouth dry – Klaus doesn’t know about them, doesn’t know Rogers has seen and ignored those scars:

“He told me he shielded a colleague from a grenade that went off, and that Uncle Heinrich had not been pleased about it,” Klaus pauses and turns his head to look at Rogers. His voice is cracking, and Rogers wishes he had half the courage this old man has. “I’m glad my cousin did the right thing again, Captain. Even if that means that… that I might lose him.”

“I think he’ll make it, there was still a good quantity of poison left…” Rogers blurts, more to reassure himself. The poison wasn’t all injected. Baron Zemo is tough. He’ll make it, he just needs time and a reason to make it. And Rogers intends to give it to him. “You… you lived in England, during the war?”

“Yes, and many years after. My father had an estate in rural Northampton, and we moved there when the Nazis rose to power. My wife’s family also fled from Germany to England,” Klaus shares and sits down heavily at the edge of the bed, looking sadly at his cousin. “I taught German Literature in Oxford.”

That explained Klaus’ flawless English and the almost complete lack of accent. Rogers begins to pace around the room:

“How long will you stay?” Rogers asks:

“I must leave in two days... Otherwise, I’m afraid a German invasion is coming,” Klaus smiles with no joy. “Life is ironic, Captain… I called Helmut to suggest him talk to you and the Avengers about spending Christmas as our guests… We couldn’t fit everybody in my manor, but Helmut’s castle has plenty of room.”

How Rogers wishes he could turn back time…

* * *

 

Within a week, Thor is free from quarantine. He’s been watching how Captain America is now living in the S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital, dwelling day and night by Zemo’s side and only leaving when Iron Man drags him to the nearest restaurant to eat or to pay Thor a visit and ask him if he’s alright.

The first thing Thor wants to make – after having a proper, worthy lunch of pizza and chocolate – is to visit Zemo. Natasha decides to go with him, and they return together to the hospital, walking side by side as Black Widow updates Thor about what’s going on the Avengers Tower – mostly, preparations for Christmas.

They reach the end of the corridor and Thor looks into the room through the window. Rogers has his back turned at him and is hunching over the German.

Putting on hazmat suits, Natasha and Thor walk into an antechamber that’s a decontamination room and Thor eagerly reaches for the door that leads to the room. There’s a small darkened window on the door as well, that allows him to see Zemo lying on the bed, connected to machines, and also Rogers, sitting on the bed and bent over Zemo… holding his hand, their fingers intertwined. Thor tilts his head, confused, and doesn’t open the door right away.

Maybe he and Widow shouldn’t get in, they’re… _interrupting something_. It makes sense, now: Rogers’ and Zemo’s closeness, how Rogers is the only one able to put up with Zemo’s tantrums and mood swings, how Zemo responds only to Rogers. They must have argued; they must have been in bad terms for the last month and hid behind the incident with Loki.

Natasha comes to stand next to Thor and peeks in, watching for a moment. Realisation dawns on her, and she finally understands what Captain America meant about wishing to have a life of his own.

Think of it, who wouldn’t?

“Perhaps, we should not…” Thor mutters:

“We should, they’ve got plenty of time. We just need to announce ourselves,” Natasha replies, startling when Thor promptly knocks at the door a bit too vigorously:

“Can we come in?” the Asgardian asks in his booming voice, watching through the window as Rogers jumps from the bed and immediately lets go of Zemo’s hand.

“Yeah!” Rogers replies, pacing around the room a little.

Black Widow and Thor come in, ask about how Rogers is doing and if Zemo has improved, but they don’t stay for long. Rogers is grateful for that.

On their way back to the Avengers Tower, Thor has an important question:

“Should we say something to our friends?”

“No, Thor. This is between Steve and Zemo,” Natasha replies quietly. “This explains a lot…”

“It does. I never heard of anything like this in Asgard. Is it common in Midgard?” Thor sounds curious as always, and Natasha can’t help a smile.

But it’s a shame that Rogers and Zemo didn’t work out whatever happened between them before one of them got hurt. Well, think of it and both _are_ hurt… Her smile dies:

“It’s… complicated, Thor. It’s not uncommon, but for Steve and Zemo… well…” She frowns, putting all the pieces together, and for the first time in her super-spy life, Black Widow wishes she didn’t know all this. “… it must be difficult for them… because when they were young, they were told it was a wrong thing.”

Thor hums, thoughtful:

“So… what do we do, now?” Because maybe, if they told the other Avengers about it, they could all help Rogers and Zemo being happy together again. Thor likes when his friends are happy:

“We don’t say a word about this, Thor. And we’ll let Steve think we still don’t know, ok?” She sighs; Clint would kill her if he knew what she’s not sharing with him… Yet this is between Rogers and Zemo, she can understand it now, and Rogers’ friendship and trust mean too much to be toyed with.

* * *

 

When Thor and Black Widow leave, Rogers returns to his spot at the edge of the bed and takes Zemo’s hand again:

“Come on, Helmut… It has been a week, wake up…” he mutters, squeezing Zemo’s hand softly. He looks at the bag of serum hanging over Zemo’s bed and estimates that a nurse will show up soon to change the bag, so he better insist on the important conversation before any other interruptions. “I’m not mad anymore… I just want to talk to you. We need to talk, I need to know where… where we stand,” Nothing, and Rogers sighs in disappointment. “You know, Helmut… just this time… I wished you had done what you father told you; I wish you hadn’t taken that bullet for me.”

Still nothing. Rogers sighs, looks through the window to make sure the corridor is empty and bends over Zemo, resting his forehead against the German’s. It would be so much better if there wasn’t a hazmat suit between them…

Zemo’s weak vitals have a sudden spark of activity and the monotonous beeping of the machine increases in volume and repetition. Rogers straightens up immediately and jumps to his feet, ready to rush to the emergency button near the bed to call the medical staff because something is happening, maybe another cardiorespiratory arrest, maybe more convulsions, maybe something worse!

He stands frozen to the spot, however, as Zemo’s eyes widen suddenly and the German takes in a quick and shallow breath that, for the first time in a week, is not laborious.

Rogers had almost forgotten how beautiful are Zemo’s violet eyes:

“Helmut?” he calls, hopeful, and gives one tentative step towards the bed.

Baron Zemo feels dizzy and exhausted, but still forces himself to keep his eyes open and look at the figure in a hazmat suit approaching him. His mind is a confusing place right now, but he’s pretty sure neither the Red Skull or Strucker have that voice. No, that’s definitely _Rogers_ there with him.

Or is he dead and this is just an afterlife experience? Because Strucker always bragged about how lethal his Deathspore virus was. So Zemo can’t be alive. Unless the super-soldier serum has beaten the virus… and in this case, then _Steve Rogers is right there with him_.

“Helmut!” It’s definitely Rogers’ voice. Zemo grunts something and merely watches as Rogers reaches out for him and takes one of his hands.

That makes Zemo grunt again: this is the first time Rogers touches him _in ages_ and there’s a hazmat suit between them! He wants to squeeze the hand holding his, but right now Baron Zemo is merely jelly stretched on a hospital bed:

“I’m just going to call the doctors to check on you, ok?” Rogers says in a shaky voice. “Then I’ll call Klaus, he was here last week. And then I’ll call the guys!”

No no, Zemo doesn’t want Rogers to call all those people. He wants to sleep just some more minutes and he wants to be alone with Rogers. They’ve never been just by themselves since _forever_ and now that Zemo has the chance, he doesn’t want to throw it away.

Yet right now, Zemo is too weak to voice his thoughts.

* * *

 

“So he just… woke up?” Tony repeats, scratching his chin. “I don’t need to wreck my brains trying to find a solution for him anymore?”

These were good news. Totally worth dropping dinner and rush to the hospital. The Avengers are gathered outside Zemo’s quarantine room, all peeking at the small window and watching as doctors and nurses examine the German. Rogers looks like someone bathed him with a hose, washing away all the weariness and exhaustion from him – and this, for Tony, is the best part.

His best friend is one step closer to being himself again.

Zemo looks sleepy, but perfectly conscious. He had even spent a decent amount of time looking at the Zemo sticker on the ventilator aiding him to breathe and had looked inquiringly at the window – Hawkeye had waved his hand at him enthusiastically.

He’s still very weak, way too pale, his eyes are sunken and he’s got dark rings under them, but he’s _awaken_. Rogers can start thinking about Christmas, now.

And since Zemo’s awaken, the doctors decide it’s relatively safe to take a blood sample.

“When can he leave?” Rogers asks the first doctor to emerge from the decontamination room:

“As soon as he improves, Captain: he’s still too weak, so we’re keeping him connected to the ventilator and with IV therapy,” she replies nonchalantly:

“But he’s recovering well, right?” Hawkeye asks, coming to stand besides Rogers:

“Apparently, his system is fighting off the poison. But I don’t consider him safe from danger just yet.”

Still, Zemo’s conscious – Rogers refuses to believe anything bad will happen again. He just needs to give Zemo more reasons to fight off the poison, and soon enough they’ll be leaving the hospital.

And they’ll talk, and sort out things, and hopefully make up for the wasted time. Rogers walks to the window again to watch Zemo one last time before leaving with the Avengers to go eat something and then return. The German has fallen asleep again.

* * *

 

The next time Zemo opens his eyes, he doesn’t feel so exhausted. There’s a lingering weight on him, hurting his muscles and pinning him to the spot, though he feels himself more… awaken.

Rogers is there with him, sitting at the edge of the bed. Rogers in a hazmat suit. Rogers holding his hand with a piece of synthetic fabric between them. He wants to squeeze Rogers’ hand, but he still doesn’t have the strength for it. He wants to ask Rogers is he’s fine, if Schmidt and Strucker didn’t harm him, but he can’t do much besides grunting.

He feels Rogers hold his hand tightly, and it pains him that he can’t retribute the gesture:

“Don’t you ever do something like this again, Helmut…” Rogers mutters in a small voice. He wants to cup Zemo’s face, wants to rest his forehead on the German’s, wants to ruffle his hair, put a hand on his chest and feel his heartbeat.

Yet all he does is holding Zemo’s hand, refraining himself with the thought that _they must talk first_ , but the talking will only happen after Zemo leaves the hospital.

Zemo wants to argue that he’ll always protect Rogers, but he just grunts and coughs. He feels another squeeze on his hand:

“You need to recover, and then we’ll go home and we’ll talk,” Rogers promises.

 _Home_. Rogers realises he’s being incredibly selfish – because they’ll go back to the Avengers Tower, _his_ home. Zemo’s, however, is in Germany. They had all these plans to spend some time in Germany and move further in their relationship, be just themselves for a while…

They stare at each other. Zemo grows frustrated by the hazmat suit between him and Rogers and grunts again. That earns him another squeeze to the hand – why won’t Rogers caress his face? Is he still upset? What kind of proof does he need now??

* * *

 

Baron Zemo recovers gradually on the couple of days that follow: he regains a little strength and starts speaking again.

His voice is ragged and weak, but he can finally say Rogers’ name and complain about how much he hates hospitals. Zemo wants to apologise to Rogers again, and promise him he will never hide things from him in the future, and assure him his feelings are real and still there, untouched. No: stronger, even. This distance between him and Rogers has showed him just how much he wants and needs Rogers in his life. Heinrich’s expectations on him be damned – Helmut Zemo wants to be happy, and he knows he can with Rogers by his side. Lying in that hospital bed, Zemo vows to treasure Rogers as much as he treasures his sword.

He only wishes his recovery was faster, and that there wasn’t the hazmat suit between them. He wants to fully see Rogers’ face, and feel his skin and his warmth. Baron Zemo has been conscious for just a few days and is already hating something: the wall of synthetic fabric. But just Rogers’ – he’s not bothered by the other Avengers also wearing hazmat suits.

The general concern about his person – even Stark! – gives Zemo a much-needed sense of belonging, makes him feel cherished and welcomed. He’s glad he didn’t destroy the Avengers when he had the chance.

Though deep down, Zemo wishes he would have time to be alone with Rogers. Just the two of them, simply staring at each other and holding hands in silence… maybe try to sort out things there and then.

Yet Zemo still spends another week at the hospital, though he’s taken out of quarantine. His improved immune system is successfully cleansing itself from the poison – but only because he didn’t receive the entire dose. He’s also free from IV therapy, and he never thought hospital food could taste so wonderful to him. Rogers still spends time with him, though not as much as when Zemo was in quarantine, and they still hold hands.

Most of time Zemo is silent, listening as Rogers tells him about the Christmas shenanigans going on the Avengers Tower: the Hulk has gotten Zemo a pink sock to hang next to the Avengers’ socks, Hawkeye has found out the location of Tony’s Christmas-themed biscuit stash and is emptying it day by day, Natasha and Falcon have discovered the wonders of covering furniture (and team-mates) with fake snow, Tony has gotten a bigger tree than last year and Thor is filling the tower with mistletoe.

This last part makes Zemo frown in suspicion:

“I do not recall mistletoe, last year,” he comments. Rogers shrugs and smiles at him:

“You were too busy sulking in your room. There was mistletoe on the entry to the gym, to the kitchen and in the lift,” Seems this year Thor decided to raise the bar and force his friends to watch where they stand.

A moment of silence follows, before Rogers proceeds:

“You’re leaving the hospital tomorrow,” He looks away from the German. “If you want… I can bring you some clothes. I’ll need your passcode, though…”

“You will not,” Zemo assures him, and that makes Rogers look back to him. “I did not withdrew your permission to go in my bedroom.”

That leaves Rogers speechless and makes his heart clench a little. He moistens his lips:

“Why?”

“I was hoping we would… fix it. That you would come back,” Zemo shrugs. He’s still weak, and pale, and his eyes are still sunken, and there are still dark rings under them. But he can already eat by himself, and his voice is recovering some of its original power:

“We’ll fix it,” Rogers promises, and he wants to take Zemo in his arms – instead, simply holds his hand and gives it an affectionate squeeze. They must talk first.

And as the hour approaches, so increases Rogers’ tension – he’ll make himself vulnerable again, is hoping to hear and say what has been delayed… and wonders if everything is still in the right place, if returning to Zemo’s embrace will still feel right and good despite everything that happened. He looks forward to it, but also fears something might have been irremediably broken.

* * *

 

There’s mistletoe on the lift. Rogers is pretty sure he pulled it off on his way back to the hospital to take Zemo his clothes, but Thor must have replaced it already.

And Captain America and Baron Zemo stand awkwardly in the lift, looking from the menacing mistletoe to each other. Zemo, clad in black, has the looks of a wraith and is leaning against the lift for support. But when the doors of the lift close, he pushes himself to a straight position and gives a tentative step towards Rogers.

They both stand now under the mistletoe, and Zemo leans in for an innocent peck. He misses Rogers so much, and certainly after all they’ve been through this little demonstration of affection will be welcomed.

So, Baron Zemo is very surprised when Rogers turns his face away and Zemo’s lips touch Rogers’ cheek:

“Helmut, we must talk…” Rogers mutters. Zemo leans against the lift again and narrows his eyes:

“I know we must, but… I thought-“ Is this what he gets for being selfless to the point of willingly sacrificing himself for the man he loves? If Rogers doesn’t want affection, why did he stay at the hospital? Why the empty promises on how they’d fix it? They could be already fixing it! Zemo could already be showing Rogers _how much he has missed him, how much he needs him_.

It’s impressive how Zemo, still fighting off the poison, has already mustered energy to be upset and feel wronged. He looks down at his boots, clenching his jaw, and Rogers sighs in defeat – he had already forgotten just how _exasperating_ Baron Zemo can be.

The lift stops and the doors open. Rogers reaches out to Zemo to help him walk, but the German stumbles out of the lift the most dignified way he can, carrying in a hand the duffel bag containing his suit and mask and in the other his holsters and scabbard:

“It’s Baron Drama!!” Hawkeye salutes from the couch, putting down the video-game console and jumping to his feet. “Just look at you!! White as a paper sheet!”

“Annoying as always…” Zemo comments and he needs to stop and lean on the kitchen isle for support. The whole space is overly-decorated for Christmas, but Zemo gives it no importance – he just wants to lie down in peace and quiet.

Thor materialises next to Zemo and embraces him vigorously, making the German grunt in discomfort. And the next thing Zemo knows, the Hulk has trapped him in his arms too, chirping animatedly about Sock-Face being back.

The German is unceremoniously dropped at one of the seats around the kitchen isle, and he looks warily at Hawkeye, who has approached with a grin:

“No way I’m gonna hug you, we’re not friends!” The archer pats Zemo’s back, making him sigh in relief:

“Good. Now stop touching me!”

Falcon, sitting at the couch, stands up and trots to Zemo to shake hands with him. Tony, also sitting at the couch and sipping coffee while reading a magazine, merely looks at the German:

“Ah, we missed you! The grumpiness, the petulance… good to have you back!” He actually means it, and hopefully, _Captain America is back as well_.

Zemo nods in acknowledgement and notices Natasha coming from the corridor. She’s carrying her batons – must have interrupted her training – and stops near Zemo, crossing her arms:

“Welcome back,” she says, and this is the nicest tone she ever used with Zemo. He feels like politeness is required now:

“Thank you, Widow.”

Rogers watches, and would feel warm and peaceful if only there wasn’t already tension between him and Zemo, whose mobile starts to ring. With a grunt, Zemo stands up, answers the call and wobbles away from the gathered Avengers and toward the windows.

Thor smiles widely at Rogers, who smiles back and approaches the group:

“I take it Helmut is on the path of recovery!” the Asgardian comments, looking expectantly to Rogers, who just nods. Then Thor spreads his arms, a proud – and knowing? – grin on his face. “Do you like my Yule decoration, Captain?”

Natasha _accidentally_ drops a baton on Thor’s foot.

And no, Rogers doesn’t like this ungodly amount of mistletoe lurking at him from every recondite corner, from every doorway... and who knows where else Thor spread the mistletoe! He just wants the Avengers to disband and calm down about Zemo’s return, so that he finally has a chance to talk to him.

Rogers already regrets not having seized the quiet opportunity of the hospital… He looks at Zemo, speaking on the phone with a rather grim expression. Their eyes meet for a moment, and Rogers immediately knows something isn’t right.

He walks up to the German, ignoring Natasha’s eyes on his back, and waits for him to finish the call before asking if everything is alright.

Zemo looks tired and shaken, and he shoves his mobile in a pocket of his cargo pants:

“No, I must return to Germany,” he says in a tight voice. Hawkeye, walking past them to go back to his spot on the couch and to his game, looks indignantly at Zemo:

“What?? You can’t, you just got here!!”

Tony closes the magazine and looks attentively at Zemo, _daring_ him to make Rogers miserable again:

“One of my dogs was bitten,” The accent is heavy, the words paused. Rogers understands this means a great deal to Zemo. “I have that dog since he was a baby.”

“What bit your dog?” the Hulk asks curiously. Zemo is growing impatient and moistens his lips:

“A wolf…”

The Avengers all exchange looks. They’re not very sure if Zemo is overreacting, because whoever phoned him can perfectly rush the dog to the vet and take care of it. Either way, he just got out of the hospital, and he’s in no conditions of going to Germany, alone – Rogers told them the day before that he’ll have to go back to the hospital if he starts feeling fever.

And because of that, Rogers puts a hand on Zemo’s shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze:

“Ok, let’s go.”

There’s the sound of desperate coughing while Tony spits the coffee he had just sipped. Since Iron Man is too busy struggling against his drink, Natasha takes the sensible approach, though she understands this is the perfect opportunity for Rogers and Zemo to be alone and work out whatever happened:

“But Steve… Christmas is in four days…” she says softly and looks at Zemo. “Do you really need to go?”

Zemo would already be gone if only he could move with his usual speed and strength and if he weren’t slightly dizzy. These ‘super-heroes’ don't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation:

“I have a teleporting device, have you forgotten?” he snarls. “I just need to make sure my dog-“

“He’s got a teleporting device, we’ll be quick!” Rogers exclaims in the most reasonable way. “I’ll go with him just to make sure he’ll be fine. We’ll be back home in time for Christmas.”

Tony is still coughing and grimacing and gesticulating angrily with his magazine: Germany is the lair of all of Captain America’s nemesis, _therefore Captain America should not be going alone to Germany. With one of said nemesis._  

Yet, this is the perfect opportunity Rogers has been hoping for. No Avengers, no treacherous mistletoe lurking from the ceiling… just Rogers and Zemo. It’s also terrifying, because _this is not how Zemo and he had planned to go to Germany_ , but Baron Zemo has just something about him that makes Rogers act on impulse. 

He glances at Zemo, looking at him hopefully and urgently, and nods.

* * *

 

They materialise in a large, rectangular yard. There’s ice on the cobblestones, the air around them is freezing and the sky above is of a mournful grey. Not far, bells toll the hour, breaking the silence for brief seconds to announce two in the afternoon.

They are finally in Zemo’s much beloved home, built in dark stone and caging in the new-arrived.

“Welcome to Castle Zemo,” the German salutes in a rather tight voice and starts walking to the large building ahead of them, L shaped and three stories high, with a small tower sprouting from its outer end and with a grey roof that looks almost a continuation of the dark stones that make up the walls. “We are in the main bailey. The living quarters and kitchen are in this building,” He then points to a large and round tower behind them. “That is where the staff is accommodated,” The main bailey is rectangular, surrounded by walls, but the wall at their left is shorter than the others and has a lancet arch doorway. Zemo points at that wall. “Over there is the lower bailey, the coops, the chapel and the keep, where I have the bibliotheca and the office, and an open gorge tower. I think you will enjoy the view from there. The stables, garden and riding rings are outside.”

Rogers looks around with a frown: the castle sounds _huge_ and there are more things outside? He would like to explore, would like to take a moment to appreciate the bulky building and walls and sleek towers with their conical roofs, but he keeps following Zemo into the main building.

The main building has only a lancet arch door, but several windows and a turret. Rogers is intrigued by it, but doesn’t have the chance to ask – Zemo pulls the heavy oak door open and a _pack_ of dogs jumps at them, barking and wagging their tails at Zemo and baring their teeth at Rogers: Rogers doesn’t know what breeds some of the dogs are, but he easily identifies two Dachshunds, a Dobermann, two Rottweilers and a monstrous Great Dane that seems particularly decided to attack Rogers. They all wear large leather collars.

Zemo walks in, calling the dogs with a commanding voice. They leave Rogers alone and follow Zemo excitedly, jumping around him and bumping against him, always barking and wagging their tails. The inside of the main building is dim, the ceilings are vaulted and there are several tapestries hanging on the walls. All depict hunting scenes and look old, though cared for – Rogers wonders if these are really medieval tapestries or more recent work. He’s so distracted looking around that he bumps against Zemo, who has stopped in the middle of the entry hall and is talking to a butler.

The Great Dane peeks from behind the butler, menacingly, watching intently as Zemo places a hand on Rogers’ shoulder:

“Captain Rogers is not fluent; talk to him in English,” Zemo instructs the butler, who nods and takes their backpacks. Rogers is not surprised at how Zemo doesn’t hand over his sword and pistols, and follows him through yet another lancet arch door at their right. The dogs follow in happy cacophony.

They cross a narrow corridor, dark and with low ceilings. Two armours stand guard at the doorway to a room that Rogers already knows: the large and elegant dining room, with high vaulted ceilings, a single large round window, a long table set for two, a large – and lit - fireplace on a wall with a big carpet on the floor in front of it and, near the fireplace, a small table with a gramophone and records. It’s almost exactly like the memories Rogers saw, with the difference that a black camelback sofa has been added and stands opposite to the fireplace.

A white cat with blue eyes peeks from the sofa, undisturbed by the excited dogs nor by the new arrived. Rogers’ eyebrows shoot up to his hairline:

“You’ve got a cat, too??” he asks.

Zemo gives him a small smile and walks to the sofa. He leans against it for support while picking up the cat, who’s looking attentively at Rogers.

The sight of Baron Zemo cradling a cat on his arms and surrounded by happy dogs is heart-warming. Rogers smiles widely, feeling an already familiar warmth towards the German. It’s almost easy to forget how… _trigger-happy_ Zemo is.

The German puts down the cat on the sofa again and walks back to the table, sitting heavily at the head of it. Where Heinrich used to sit. Rogers would have absolutely no idea of where to sit, were not the dish, cutlery and glass set at right to Zemo’s seat:

“They are five,” the German tells. The dogs quiet down a little and sit around him, staring expectantly. “That is my German Rex, Siegfried; there is also a Norwegian Forest, Saga, and three European Shorthair siblings: Maxim, Fritz and Lili.”

“Siegfried looks friendlier than your dogs, that’s for sure…” Rogers comments, looking at the dogs gathered around Zemo.

An old woman comes in, carrying a tray with a tureen and a jar that Rogers is pretty sure are made of silver, and puts it down on the table between Rogers and Zemo:

“Danke, Emilie,” Zemo says with a smile. The old woman smiles back, exchanges a few words with Zemo while serving the dishes and then retreats without giving Rogers much importance.

Lunch is a heavy, steamy stew that smells deliciously. Rogers notices that one of the dogs he doesn’t know the breed is looking at him expectantly:

“Uh… can I give your dogs something?” Rogers asks Zemo, making the German chuckle. He looks exhausted:

“You can, but you must eat first.”

“What breeds are your dogs?” Rogers asks conversationally, desperate to break the tense silence between them. So, Rogers learns that the dogs he didn’t recognise the breed are a red German Spaniel named Rose, a black Giant Schnauzer named Erik, a golden Hovawart named Gudrun and two black Miniature Pinschers, Ulrik and Gerda; the black Dachshunds are Vergil and Alois, the black Dobermann is Dirk, the two Rottweilers are brothers, Adalric and Hector, and the blue Great Dane is Jäger. Rogers also learns that Zemo’s favourite dog, the German Shepherd currently in the vet, is named Wulfgar. After introducing his dogs, however, Zemo grows silent again.

“What is in the jar?” Rogers is desperate to break the silence, try to introduce the so important talk they must have before anything else, while at the same time questioning himself about the right timing for the talk – Zemo is visibly exhausted, he’s worried with his wounded dog, he’s just got home and is certainly wanting to go see his other cats, and horses, and whatever other animals he might have:

“Heißen Met,” Zemo replies, reaching for the jar and pouring a little of the drink in his glass. “Warm mead. Thor would probably like it.”

“Yeah…” Rogers decides to try a little of it, but the fruits and spices in the drink make it a bit too strong for his liking. Zemo is silent again, minding his stew, and Rogers sighs and decides to go straight to the point. “So… do you want to talk now, or after you’ve heard from your dog?”

“It is you who seems not to want to talk,” The German looks at him sternly. “We could have talked in the hospital, or on our way to the Avengers Tower… We could have been talking already while eating.”

“I just thought you’d be tired and worried!”

And Zemo is exhausted, and he’s worried sick about his dog and chastising himself for having deemed wolf collars unnecessary; yet by now Rogers should already know the length of Zemo’s feelings towards him, and the fact that Rogers is _stalling_ is doing little to put Zemo at ease with the outcome of this mess:

“And I thought you wanted to fix things…” the German accuses in a low grunt. “What do you want me to do, Rogers? Apologise again?”

“No, I-“

Rogers himself doesn’t know exactly what Zemo is supposed to do. All he knows is that they must _talk_. He thinks his words through, but the butler comes in hurriedly and addressing Zemo in German – Rogers merely understands ‘Wulfgar’, and deduces the dog has returned from the vet.

Zemo stands up immediately, puts his dish – he barely touched the food – on the floor and the dogs immediately dive in, wagging their tails happily:

“I will see Wulfgar now. Once you finish, follow Bergmann,” Zemo motions the butler waiting at the doorway with the head. “He will show you to your room. You can leave the table set, Emilie will see to it later.” And with that, Zemo leaves.

Sitting at the table alone with eleven dogs and one cat, Rogers doesn’t feel hungry anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always treasured and appreciated!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you people for your support!

Lying awake in his bed, Rogers can’t sleep.

It’s not that the bed is not comfortable – because it is, and it’s spacious, and the guest room he’s staying in has a good heater. But the wind outside howls loudly, and there are church bells tolling each passing half hour and hour, and Rogers has never slept anywhere without at least one of the Avengers nearby… and he doesn’t even know where Zemo is!

Zemo has been gone since lunch – Rogers was left alone with his dogs, white cat and waiting butler, and after handing over his lunch to the pack of expecting dogs, Rogers had followed the butler through a maze of corridors: they were all narrow, dark and with low vaulted ceilings. Rogers had been watched by threatening armours, feral hunting trophies and a mini-lion (or was it Zemo’s Norwegian Forest cat?) ran past Rogers while he was climbing the spiral staircase to the third floor (hence the turret sticking out of the building) and hissed menacingly at him. Everything had looked the same: ceilings, dimness, decoration, lancet arch doors made of oak and with dark iron handles. The butler hadn’t said much, merely guided Rogers to his guest room and promised to come pick him up when dinner was served.

The guest room is large but austere, with two narrow lancet windows side by side, a carpet covering the floor, a double bed, a big wooden trunk at the end of the bed and a wrought iron hoop chandelier. On the wall opposite to the bed hangs a tapestry depicting a battle and yet another lancet arch door leading into a tiny bathroom.

Tony had called shortly after Rogers had settled in, telling Captain America to spy the property and gather as much intel as he could, since S.H.I.E.L.D. had nothing on Castle Zemo.

But Rogers doesn’t want to spy. He just wants to talk to Zemo, be in a good place again. Zemo hadn’t showed up for dinner, nor his dogs or cats, and only the butler had stood by the door, waiting for Rogers to eat so that he could lead him back to his room.

With a sigh, Rogers stands up, puts on his trainers and exits the room – he must find Zemo, they must talk.

Yet, Rogers still doesn’t know _what they’ll talk about_. Zemo is right: he has already apologised and has made his feelings clear. So, it’s up to Rogers to say something – he feels he must, that something’s missing. But what? Didn’t he already say everything at the hospital? Is there really something to talk about at all?

Maybe Rogers shouldn’t have turned his face away when Zemo tried to kiss him in the lift. Maybe _that_ would have been enlightening enough…

Now, where to go? Rogers stands alone in yet another long, dark and narrow corridor, guarded by armours. There’s the faint sound of music, perhaps a guitar, but where does it come from? Rogers wouldn’t like to find Zemo’s dogs – especially the Great Dane: the dogs didn’t seem to accept him right away, and he’s pretty sure they’ll attack him if Zemo or the butler aren’t nearby. He decides to go right and check the floor below.

At the end of the stairs there’s a locked door that’s slightly larger than the others. This corridor has windows, several arrow-slits along the wall that let in the cold and no light, because the sky is clouded. Now Rogers understands why Zemo told him to pack warm clothes…

Yet there is light at the end of the corridor: a door stands ajar, a door that Rogers had previously failed to see because it was completely closed. The music comes from the room at the end of corridor, and Rogers is sure that’s Zemo’s bedroom.

Striding towards the door, Rogers remembers the scene he witnessed, of Heinrich carrying Helmut back to his bedroom during a storm. Seems Baron Zemo still sleeps in his childhood bedroom.

This is definitely a guitar, and Rogers can hear a man singing in German. Is it Zemo? He should knock before getting in, but he doesn’t want to disturb… he’ll just peek in.

Zemo seems to be in an antechamber with a lit fireplace, casting an eerie orange light on the huge German Shepherd lying on a blanket in front of the fire. The dog is wearing a cone, but Rogers can’t understand if the dog is asleep with its head turned to the door or if it’s awaken and watching him. The other dogs are lying scattered around Zemo, apparently asleep.

“… _Die sturmbewährt sich nimmer vor einem Feind geneigt_

_Und heute noch und immer den Weg nach Osten zeigt.”_

Zemo is sitting on the floor, next to the German Shepherd. His back is turned to the door, his head is tilted slightly and he’s playing guitar. Rogers had no idea the German could play an instrument, nor sing. He doesn’t understand much of what Zemo is singing, but he finds the music and Zemo's low voice beautiful.

“ _Ob wir auch hier verderben, das kümmere euch nicht_

_Die Fahne zu vererben ist unsere letzte Pflicht._

_Ich darf nicht länger zagen, bald zwingt sie euren Sinn_

_Nach Ostland sie zu tragen, sie will, sie muss dorthin.”_

There’s a moment of silence, until Zemo puts the guitar aside:

“Did I disturb you, Steven?” His voice is hoarser, he should be resting. Rogers frowns, wondering what gave him away, and looks with renewed attention to the German Shepherd, that looks asleep… but it’s not. And maybe the other dogs aren’t either, judging by how they are moving their ears. They must have felt Rogers, and Zemo learned of his presence through the dogs:

“No. I… I couldn’t sleep,” After a little hesitation, Rogers goes in. The dogs don’t growl and the German Shepherd merely follows him with his eyes.

The antechamber is big and empty in the dark corners the fireplace doesn’t illuminate. There’s a black vintage divan on the wall in front of the fireplace – and are those cats looking at Rogers from under the divan?

“You should be sleeping,” Rogers says, stopping behind Zemo and looking down at him. He’s still wearing his usual clothes, though he’s barefoot:

“I am not tired,” Zemo lies, petting the wounded dog. He’s exhausted, he can barely keep his eyes open, but he doesn’t want to go to sleep.

He feels Rogers behind him, so close, yet unbelievably distant:

“How’s Wulfgar?” Rogers’ voice is soft and, after a little hesitation, he kneels next to Zemo:

“It is not very serious, but he needed stitching. The caretaker said the other dogs rushed to Wulfgar and scared the wolf away.”

The German Shepherd is quite big and has stitches on its side, front legs and left cheek. Rogers pities it and wonders if he can pet it, but maybe when the dog is feeling better:

“How did it happen?”

“Part of my property extends into the forest and there is a breach on the wall that the caretaker failed to mention to me earlier. The wolf got in through there…” Zemo clenches his jaw. “I have some sheep and goats, and since I did not want my dogs with wolf collars because they could harm each other by accident, I have walled the entirety of the estate to avoid unwanted guests,” His tone hardens. “I had that wall built decades ago, it needs maintenance. One of the caretaker’s duties is to check on the wall daily…” But since he did such a poor job, Zemo had fired him the moment he returned from the vet with Wulfgar, and had already entrusted his butler with hiring a new caretaker and call a stone mason to fix the wall.

“It wasn’t your fault, Helmut…” Rogers assures, and rests a hand over Zemo’s shoulder. “Go to sleep, you’re still recovering.”

“I do not want to leave Wulfgar alone…” Zemo grumbles. But looking around the chamber, Rogers sees another lancet arch door – Zemo’s sleeping chamber:

“What if you take him there?”

“I… I do not trust myself to lift Wulfgar right now, Steven…” Zemo confesses through gritted teeth, not happy to admit he feels too weak to aid his own dog:

“And what if I take him?” Rogers offers. Hopefully, Wulfgar won’t bite him.

Zemo considers, then nods. He scrambles to his feet and watches attentively as Rogers carefully slips both arms under Wulfgar and lifts the dog easily. Fortunately, the dog doesn’t mind being picked up, and Rogers follows Zemo into the sleeping chamber.

It’s still exactly like the memories Rogers saw: a ridiculously huge bed, a large trunk at the feet of it, bookshelves, a tall and sturdy wardrobe, large wood beams on the ceiling, a wrought iron chandelier hanging high and a small lancet window. The sleeping chamber is warm, having a large heater next to the bed, and in the floor in front of the heater there’s a big dog bed.

Rogers lies Wulfgar down on its bed and, after making sure his dog is alright, Zemo disappears into a private bathroom through a narrow door in the opposite wall to the widow.

Standing awkwardly in the middle of Zemo’s room, Rogers doesn’t know what to do: stay and try to talk to the German, or leave him to rest and come back in the morning? He looks around, uncomfortable, and notices a cat peeking in at the lancet arch door. The cat disappears the moment Rogers makes eye-contact with it:

“Uh… I think there’s a cat wanting to come in…” Rogers comments aloud. Zemo returns from the bathroom, wearing a tank top and sweat shorts and looking like he’s already asleep:

“Cats, dogs… they come and go. Leave the doors ajar for them, please.”

So, Baron Zemo sleeps with his doors… not entirely closed. Must be because his staff sleeps in a completely different building. Rogers nods, turns around to leave as Zemo flops weakly on the bed… but stops by the door to the antechamber and glances behind.

This is his chance. Zemo has already tried to do something and Rogers pushed him away, now it’s his turn to _act_ :

“Can I stay with you?” Rogers asks quietly, dreading the answer. In fact, why would Zemo allow him to stay? He’ll probably make some petty remark about the talk he and Rogers must have and-

“Please,” Zemo’s voice is hoarse and low, but still Rogers hears it.

Captain America has no idea of how he got in Zemo’s bed, but he’s under the blanket and Zemo’s within arm reach with his back turned at him. Carefully, Rogers scoots closer to Zemo until his chest touches Zemo’s back. The German presses weakly against Rogers, only because he doesn’t have the strength to shove himself at him. Holding his breath, Rogers wraps his arm around Zemo and waits.

He feels the German intertwine their fingers and he can breathe again. But it’s not just air that goes out, and he can’t stop the words from flowing nor the tears from streaming:

“I’m sorry Helmut, I shouldn’t have shut you off,” He presses his eyes closed and leans his head against Zemo’s. “I thought I would lose you!” And Rogers can’t afford to lose Zemo, he has already lost too much: a whole life, for instance. He can’t lose this man, that carries so many chances and promises.

Zemo turns around to face Rogers and wraps his arms around him the strongest he can. Rogers pulls him impossibly closer and Zemo burrows his head on the crook of Rogers’ neck, taking in Rogers’ scent and absorbing his warmth and finally feeling… _healed._

“Ich werd’ niemals mit deinem Vertrauen spielen!” (I will never toy with your trust again!) Zemo promises in a shaky whisper.

* * *

 

Not one, not two, but three roosters burst into happy cacophony. Rogers groans, grimaces and cracks one eye open. The room is dim, there’s no light coming in through the closed wood shutters, why are the roosters making all that racket? He looks at Zemo, cradled against his chest and using him as a pillow: the German is deep asleep, looking peaceful and undisturbed. Rogers can’t help but smile and kiss his forehead gently.

And try to go back to sleep. He’s not a super-hero, today: he’s simply Steve Rogers and he’s looking forward to spend the rest of the day in bed with Zemo and looking after him.

Church bells toll: one, two, three, four, five.

A dog barks outside, then another, then another. Next to the bed, Wulfgar grunts.

Rogers sighs, closes his eyes… but can’t fall asleep again. He simply lies still, holding Zemo against him and enjoying their shared warmth under the blanket, and the feeling of their tangled legs, and his familiar weight, and the sound of his breathing, and his scent. It’s comforting, it’s familiar and Rogers has missed it dearly. He doesn’t want to spend any more nights without Zemo in his arms, and clutches to the German just a little more.

More barking outside, and again the roosters. But there’s also peace and quiet, a contentment Rogers had never experienced before but would like to feel more often. He thinks with regret about how much he sacrifices in the name of saving the world and decides he’ll wait for Zemo to wake up while thinking about how he can commit more to the man sleeping in his arms, but without completely destabilising his super-hero life.

The solution Rogers is quick to think of is _Zemo’s teleporting device._ They should definitely use it more often. Let the Avengers know they’re going to spend a cultural weekend somewhere in Europe, of course, so that they can return right away if something happens. But it would be nice to finally have time outside the Avengers Tower. Zemo will certainly like it, will be delighted to come home more often and be with his cats and dogs and horses and whatever other animals Zemo has in his castle.

The church bells toll. Six in the morning. Again the roosters, and the dogs, and shortly after Zemo stirs a little and yawns. Rogers can’t help the huge, lovesick smile that spreads on his face when the German lifts his head a little to cast him a sleepy look:

“Morg’n…” Zemo grunts and smiles, unable to resist Rogers’ dashing smile. How he has missed waking up to that smile…

“Yeah, guten Morgen for you too,” Rogers can’t help but laugh. He hasn’t been _happy_ for so long! He had almost forgotten how adorable Zemo is in the morning, when the English Machine is still not working and he simply slurs and grunts in German.

Zemo is still looking ill, yet at the same time he looks like himself again. The German rolls away from Rogers briefly, just to take a look at his dog and make sure it’s alright; then he’s back in Rogers arms, muttering about how «Wulfgar sieht besser auf» and «ich vermisst’ dich» and finally kissing Rogers.

Because they hadn’t kissed yet: they had embraced, pressed together, important things had been said, and Rogers had let Zemo fall asleep.

Now they kiss, hungrily at first, but it soon fades into playful pecks full of promises. Zemo nuzzles Rogers and pushes himself to a sitting position:

“I want to show you the castle!” Zemo announces. His accent is very thick. “And the hamlet – now village – that Harbin Zemo defended single-handedly against a horde of invading Slavs, and perhaps we could ride together and I could show you the entirety of my estate, and we could also drive to Leipzig and-“

“Helmut, take it easy… you’re still recovering…” Rogers reminds, though it’s a relief that Baron Zemo is back to making plans and has recovered – for the time being – his energy.

Seems he has also recovered his temper, because he pouts:

“But Steven, we do not have much time until-“

“How about staying in bed this morning, and after lunch you can show me the castle. If you are better tomorrow, then we can go for a ride,” Giving Zemo his best, most convincing smile, Rogers feels his heart sink a little – because indeed, they don’t have much time. Just three days until Christmas, and besides showing Rogers around, Zemo will certainly spend a little time with his dogs and cats and horses, and with his cousins, and he will want to make _everything_ while he’s still fragile and needs rest. And though Rogers wants to see all Zemo wants to show him… he also wants to enjoy the exclusivity of Zemo’s time and attention.

They should have more time. They should have time for Zemo to recover and then fulfill his plans of showing Rogers the place where he was born: it’s about time that Rogers lets Zemo do this. They should have time to be _alone, together_.

Zemo considers what Rogers told him, then nods, slowly:

“Yet we must go down for breakfast at seven. You will not want to eat in a place where the dogs can get to your food, trust me…”

* * *

 

When they return to bed after breakfast, there are five cats nestled on Wulfgar’s bed. The German Shepherd, that was taken downstairs by Rogers and has been brought upstairs again, merely stares at the cats, then retreats into the antechamber to lie on the carpet in front of the fireplace:

“I never thought you’d sleep with your pets nearby,” Rogers comments, stripping down to his underwear and climbing to the bed. It’s endearing, but he’s not sure he’s comfortable with being intimate while being… watched.

Zemo lies down next to him, eagerly, and Rogers pulls the blanket over their bodies. The bedroom isn’t cold, but the blanket makes them feel cosy:

“And as a child, I did not. The cats always slept in the stables and the dog always roamed outside. But when…” Zemo pauses, frowns a little. “… when my father died… I did not want to be alone…”

So, he had started to bring the cats and the dog inside at night, then he had bought more dogs and cats and allowed them to sleep in his bedroom, and until not so long ago he was an old lonely man sleeping with twelve dogs and five cats, plotting his revenge against Captain America until falling asleep and dreaming of world domination.

Now he’s lying with Captain America himself, all plans of revenge forgotten, and dreaming only of having the perfect life his father never had.

“Won’t anyone show up?” Rogers asks quietly, eyeing the lancet arch door suspiciously – it’s slightly ajar, with enough space for a cat or a dog to sneak in and out. Zemo nuzzles his neck affectionately:

“No, Steven. My staff has specific orders to not come upstairs when I am home. I like peace and quiet. They know better than going against my orders.”

If Zemo says so, Rogers isn’t going to argue. He sighs in contentment as Zemo’s teeth graze the skin of his neck and smiles:

“You should be quiet, Helmut. You just left the hospital yesterday.”

“You merely said «staying in bed this morning», not «staying _quietly_ »,” The German stops and looks at Rogers, very serious. He still has the looks of a wraith, but he’s visibly better and his voice has recovered its usual strength. “I miss you, Steven.”

Rogers’ voice gets stuck in his throat for a moment:

“I miss you too,“ And if Zemo is feeling alright, Rogers shouldn’t stop him. Time is short for them, so they should make the best of it. With a content sigh, Rogers rolls on top of Zemo.

They kiss and peck and nibble and graze and suck. All the recent pain and misery they went through seems distant. Rogers religiously traces with a finger the scars on Zemo’s face, while his other hand rests firmly over the maze of scars in the middle of his back. This time, Rogers wants to know the stories behind every little scar.

Captain America is not used to be served his meals, nor to have dogs and cats watching him warily, nor to the toll of church bells, nor to the singing of roosters before dawn. But being able to have Zemo like this, be passionate and not having to worry about stopping to go save the world or about an Avenger interrupting them… Rogers can easily get used to it.

Yet Zemo’s mobile rings from where he left it, over the trunk. He grunts against Roger’s lips and has every intention of ignoring it, but Rogers – ever righteous, even when he’s not happy about it – breaks the kiss and tells him between breaths that he should at least see who is it.

Baron Zemo is _not pleased_ when he crawls from under the blanket and drags himself angrily across his ridiculously large bed, until he finally reaches the trunk at the feet of the bed and picks up his phone.

 _Hawkeye_. He groans and looks over his shoulder, to Rogers:

“It is Barton!” he announces. He feels like hanging the call; instead, he chooses to answer – the Avengers might want to know Captain America’s whereabouts and the last thing Zemo needs is having the super-heroes storming his castle. “What is it, now??”

“I miss you too, Baron Grouch. Where did you put Steve?”

 _In my bed!_ is definitely not the answer, but it’s almost what leaves Zemo’s lips:

“He is here with me!”

“See, Tony??? I told you Steve was fine!!” Hawkeye hisses over his shoulder. Then comes Iron Man’s voice, indignant, and Zemo thinks it’s a good idea to put him on speaker. “I called Steve a thousand times!! Tell Steve I was worried!!”

“I’m not with my mobile right now, Tony…” Rogers replies from the opposite side of the bed, rolling his eyes. “I’ll call you later.”

“But Steve-“

“ _Wiederhören!_ ” Zemo chirps way too happily and ends the call. Now that he’s there, he takes the chance to stand up, walk to the door and peek into the antechamber just to make sure Wulfgar is alright. The dog is lying on the carpet, chewing a toy, and wags his tail weakly upon noticing Zemo.

The German returns to the bed and lies next to Rogers, holds his hips possessively, and Rogers leans in for a kiss, slow and longing, cradling the back of Zemo’s head with a hand.

Rogers knows where this is going. They both now, and they both want it. Yet Rogers is concerned about it not being enjoyable for Zemo: super-soldier or not, he just left the hospital the day before and should be resting in peace and quiet. Though the poison is gone from his bloodstream, his immune system is still recovering, he-

“Steven?”

Opening his eyes, Rogers finds Zemo looking quietly at him. He’s still too pale, still has dark rings under his eyes… though he doesn’t look that weak. _He doesn’t feel weak_. Rogers sighs:

“I just… you’re still recovering… and I want you to enjoy it…”

The wrongness of it crawls back to the surface again. For a moment, Captain America and Baron Zemo feel ashamed of what they want to do – especially, considering where they are. But there is no one there with them, no one to know: the cats have joined Wulfgar by the fire, the other dogs are outside, the knights in the tapestry above Zemo’s bed are more interested in jousting each other and there are no family portraits on the walls to frown indignantly at them. It will be just another secret between Captain America and Baron Zemo.

And since they are unshackling themselves from the past, Rogers wants Zemo to properly enjoy it.

The German rests his head on a pillow and raises an eyebrow:

“How do you want to do it, Steven?” he asks, and his voice and expression might have been schooled into calmness, but Zemo is alarmingly red. Rogers widens his eyes in surprise:

“You mean… there are many ways?” He lets out a nervous laugh, trying to imagine what could possibly be done. “How do you…?”

“I might have done some research…” Baron Zemo is _always_ one step ahead. His statement and his knowing grin have Rogers laughing full-heartedly. “So tell me, Steven… what do you wish to do?”

Rogers has missed Zemo’s reckless determination. He’s glad the German is that way, so that he can out best him:

“You did the research, you’ll have to show me what there is,” It’s easier now, though Rogers is still concerned about Zemo’s recovery.

The German knows it, considers, then nuzzles Rogers’ nose:

“If _now_ I stay _quiet_ … can I share the results of my research with you later in the evening?” Which might come in handy, since Zemo wants to show Rogers the castle. They can go to the garden, Zemo can finally say it.

Rogers simply nods, relieved, and cradles Zemo against his chest.

* * *

 

Rogers looks himself in the mirror and flaps the cloak draped around his shoulders. Of course Baron Zemo owns cloaks, and of course said cloaks are quite heavy and made of fur. Rogers’ is black and goes all the way down to his ankles, has a hood and is held closed by an annular silver brooch. Zemo’s is dark purple and also reaches his ankles, the hood is trimmed with snow leopard fur and the cloak is closed by a large buckle-shaped silver brooch.

Zemo hands Rogers a pair of leather boots that look like a hybrid of riding boots with German Infantry boots from WWII. He’s wearing boots like those too, so Rogers doesn’t comment and simply puts them on.

And finally… leather gloves:

“We are ready!” Zemo announces proudly and Rogers can’t help but laugh:

“Where are going, geared up like this?” he asks, flapping his cloak dramatically. Zemo huffs, trying to hide a smile, and exits the room. Rogers goes after him, and while they cross the antechamber the two Rottweilers, that had showed up to make Wulfgar company, decide to tag along. The German Shepherd wants to come too, and Rogers even volunteers to carry it around, but Zemo doesn’t want his recovering dog to be out in the cold just yet.

Baron Zemo proudly leads the way to a small door on the left, at the very end of the corridor. Unlike the sleeping chambers, living rooms and dining room, the corridors have no heating. They’re cold, yet still not enough to require a cloak.

Holding a large cast iron set of keys, Zemo stops in front of the door, unlocks it with one of the keys and goes in. The Rottweilers hurry after him, pushing Rogers aside in the process and hitting his legs with their tails, and when Rogers manages to walk through the doorway he finds himself in a small lateral corridor of a chapel, near the roof, dim and with only two small purple stained glass windows on the left wall. There are no representations of saints, or the Virgin, or even Christ himself. The walls are built in dark stone and the air inside is freezing, despite the closed doors:

“It’s so empty!” Rogers comments in a whisper, following Zemo and the Rottweilers to a spiral staircase at the end of the corridor. They go down in almost complete darkness:

“It is a Protestant chapel, Steven,” Zemo explains. Rogers mouths a silent ‘oh!’, looking around again once they reach the ground level. It’s so bare and uninviting, so different from the Catholic church Rogers’ parents took him to when he was a child!

They cross the chapel towards the altar, and Rogers notices there’s a dark door on the wall behind the altar. Zemo uses another key to open it and walks in. The dogs, however, don’t follow their master, and Rogers supposes the scent of humidity and dust is what keeps the dogs away.

Another set of stairs going down through a narrow and low corridor. There is a lamp at the end of the stairs that does little to illuminate the place, and Rogers needs to be careful not to slip on the stone steps. He’s about to ask Zemo what is this place when he reaches the underground level and looks around.

The German has lighted a torch with matches. The flame casts a weak and eerie light in the large, circular room, and even shows another passageway at the other end of the room. Rogers can see the several stone sarcophagi all around the room, and the niches in the walls with yet more sarcophagi.

Captain America has been brought to the crypts under Castle Zemo, the resting place of every baron. Heinrich’s sarcophagus must be there too, or in the other room. Rogers knows how much this place means to Zemo, so he remains in respectful silence and merely looks around to the many faces sculpted in stone:

“That is Harbin,” Zemo tells him in a whisper and points at the first sarcophagus at the right, immediately after the door. “My father… my father’s tomb is in the other room, but it is empty.”

Rogers merely nods, and he just hopes they won’t pay Heinrich a visit. He lets out a shaky breath when Zemo leads the way up again, locks the door and guides him out of the chapel.

“This is the lower bailey,” Zemo tells Rogers, and Captain America looks around, marveled.

The sky is still clouded, the walls around the castle and its towers are still dark… but this yard is less austere than the main bailey: in front of the chapel stands the keep; there’s a curtain wall from the chapel to the keep, and from the keep to a round tower at the very end of the lower bailey; between the keep and the round tower stands another tower, lower and sturdier and without a roof, and the entirety of curtain wall from the keep to the two towers and from one tower to another has wooden buildings, similar to crates, attached to the walls.

Around these buildings stretch large wire fenced areas, with barrels and platforms, where chickens and roosters and ducks and geese and turkeys wander freely. A bunch of white ducks and geese are outside their coop while a man changes the water from the several wood basins the ducks use to swim.

Frozen mud cracks and breaks under Rogers’ boots – unlike the main bailey, here the floor isn’t cobble stone. A lonely well stands in the middle of the yard, the Rottweilers run to play with the Great Dane and disappear in cheerful barking into the main bailey, on the other side of the wall at Rogers’ left.

The lower bailey seems to extend endlessly, and that makes Rogers realise the castle is built on a headland.

“You have a lot of animals!” Rogers exclaims in awe. The geese and ducks catch his eye: white and large, they look like pillows with legs. He wonders if he can pet at least the ducks, since they seem to be used to have people around them. Decided, Rogers walks up to the geese and ducks:

“Steven, you should not-“ Zemo warns, but watching _Captain America run from geese_ must be fun, so he grows silent.

And, as expected, the moment Rogers approaches too much, the geese honk a threat and charge against Rogers, flapping their wings menacingly. Zemo bursts out laughing as Rogers comes back running and hides a little behind him:

“Not fun, Helmut!” he complains, aggrieved, and obediently follows Zemo towards the keep.

The keep is a large, rectangular and study five-stories tower. They climb the stairs to the first floor, only to descend by a trapdoor to what were once storage areas and a dungeon and is now Baron Zemo’s secret stash of weaponry/secret lab.

Rogers knows that being there means a great deal, and he’ll be damned if he ever tells anyone about it.

The rest of the keep is a bibliotheca/office, full of books and estate documents and each floor is dedicated to a subject. The ceilings are crisscrossed by dark wood beams and instead of armours there are simply banners and shields on the walls. The view from the round-arched windows, two in each floor, is stunning. Zemo’s office is in the last floor, and that is where the original Zemo sword is kept in display, inside a climatized showcase; there are also a Nazi and a Hydra banners on the wall behind the desk and a framed picture of Heinrich in full costume – Rogers politely ignores both banners and picture and listens attentively Zemo’s passionate speech about the sword in display.

There’s a passage on the second floor of the keep that leads to wooden galleries that allow circulation all around the walls, and Zemo leads Rogers into the galleries. There is ice and bits of snow on the wood, and the wind howls with intensity and bites mercilessly at exposed skin. Rogers wraps the cloak tightly around him, frowning, but smiles fondly when Zemo pulls the hood over his head.

They make their way to the sturdy tower with no roof and climb to the parapet walk of it:

“This is the open gorge tower. I think you will enjoy the view,” Zemo announces proudly over the wind. He tells Rogers the history of the castle, about it having been originally built in the 11th century but having been abandoned and then restored and upgraded in the 15th century by the first Baron Zemo. He also tells Rogers about all the later modifications it went through, like tearing down the barbican to allow expansion to lower ground – which explained why the end of the lower bailey isn’t currently walled.

The castle stands on a small hill in the middle of a meadow. Behind it, a dark compact mass of pine trees extends for many miles, and now Rogers understands why there are wolves. All around the castle stand fenced pastures, and near the slope are the large buildings of the horse stables together with an indoor ring and next to it the largest outdoor ring Rogers has ever seen. There are other stables closer to the castle walls, with sheep and goats grazing on a fenced pasture under the watch of the new caretaker and the Dobermann, and a few cows on other pasture, and horses in another one. Where the barbican originally was stands now a garden with a frozen artificial lake, a large weeping willow next to it, empty flowerbeds and naked trees. In the distance, Rogers can see Zemo’s anti-wolf wall, and beyond it fields, and roofs from the nearby village peeking from the fog.

Rogers then notices a man in tactical gear climbing the stairs from the lower bailey to the curtain wall, and another one exiting the round tower opposite to the open gorge tower. The men also carry… rifles:

“Helmut, are those mercenaries?” Rogers asks suspiciously, because he knows Zemo doesn’t like mercenaries. The German frowns indignantly:

“Of course not! That is private security! One of my cousins’ husband runs a security guards company and I always hire guards from him,” He smiles innocently. “Well… I also give them some extra training, and a better uniform, and weapons…”

“That’s illegal!”

“I pay my taxes, Steven! I do what I want in my property!” His smile dies and his face becomes serious. “Unlike my father, I have never allowed Hydra soldiers inside my walls. I do not like to bring work into my home.”

Rogers nods, put at ease, though he must confess he’s not surprised by seeing armed men wandering Zemo’s castle walls. He turns his attention back to the German, who’s talking again about the castle and his estate, and notices Zemo’s voice is growing hoarser, and he looks… tired. Doing a good job at hiding it, but Rogers knows him all too well, now.

“We should go back, Helmut,” he says softly, motioning the main building with his head. Zemo pouts: fine, he’s starting to feel tired, and a bit light-headed… but the garden is so close now, and he has something very important to say!

He looks again at the garden: dark, naked trees, frozen stone benches, no flowers at this time of the year, no birds chirping happily… Increasing his pout, Baron Zemo concludes that, for the time being, the garden won’t do. He looks again at Rogers, at his patient face lurking from under the hood and wrapped tightly in his dark cloak.

And he wonders if the location matters at all. This tower has a stunning sight, they can see the forest, and the hamlet, and all the estate, and even Leipzig when there is no fog. So, Baron Zemo takes a deep breath, approaches Rogers just a bit more, makes sure his guards are looking the other way and captures one of Rogers’ gloved hands:

“Ich lieb’ dich,” It lacks all the romanticism he had expected to have in the garden – in the Spring, or Summer, but think of it and he can’t wait that long. It needed to be said, now, among the barking of dogs, the distant neighing of horses, the honking of geese and the cackling of chickens, and he waits in expectant silence with his heart hammering madly in his chest.

Rogers is stunned for a second, then needs to translate it, frowning in concentration to make sure he’s not making up things… then smiles widely. After all these months, and he finally got to hear it:

“I love you,” Rogers replies fondly, and Zemo can breathe again. But because they’re outside, on top of a tower, they can’t kiss. That needs to be fixed immediately, and Rogers tilts his head towards the main building again. “Come on, Helmut. You can show me the rest of your castle tomorrow.”

* * *

 

Dinner has been eaten, Tony Stark’s curiosity regarding Rogers’ well-being and Zemo’s recovery has been sated, Wulfgar is lying in front of the fireplace with the Dachshunds and the cats… and mobiles are off.

Now, Rogers and Zemo can lie down on Zemo’s enormous bed and strip each other slowly between kisses. Nothing is rushed, they have had enough time to think it through and settle for something calm.

Rogers is the first to be completely naked. He feels vulnerable, but enjoys Zemo’s hungry gaze, the attention of his exploratory touches and teasing, soft scratching of fingernails. They lie side by side, facing each other, and Rogers feels somewhat solemn while he finally completely undresses Zemo: social status, wealth and past… none of it matter now. They would be equals about to explore unknown territory, if only Baron Zemo hadn’t already gathered intel on what lies ahead and taken the lead of the situation.

And Rogers doesn’t mind. He’s got his pride and he’d rather take care of himself and of his team than the other way around… but now Rogers is happy he has _someone_ to look after him, to make him feel good, to guide him through it.

Sliding his hand slowly yet resolutely down Rogers’ chest, Zemo is decided to not spend much time in familiar territory. They already know how that works for them, he already knows where all of Rogers’ sensitive spots and pleasure points are. So, it’s time to dive in the unknown, put to good use the result of his (embarrassing) research. Rogers is hard, wanting, and Zemo holds him and strokes him slowly and carefully, experimenting, watching Rogers’ face go from surprised to pleasured and his muscles tense and relax involuntary. The basics of pleasure, ghosts of improper and low-class chatting Zemo would overhear sometimes at the Napola and make him wonder what principles of education and self-control the future of Germany had been taught.

But done in Rogers? The way he whimpers and arches his back and pulls Zemo closer? Sublime. He bites and sucks softly at that sensitive spot on Rogers’ jaw, then captures his lips in a longing kiss… only to release them with a surprised gasp as he feels Rogers doing to him what he’s doing to Rogers.

It sends sparks and flames and makes him shiver and press closer, until every inch of their bodies touch and their movements grow from careful and measured to frantic.

Because they almost didn’t make it this far, because they spent so much time apart. They kiss and bite and snarl, grabbing handfuls of hair and each other in firm, purposeful grips, hooking their legs around each other. They are not inexperienced lovers anymore, touching and pressing and twisting like they have done this countless times before, together.  

Rogers had always fantasised things would work like this for the two of them, but he can’t wait to know what Zemo knows. He shares this thought with Zemo, looks into his violet eyes, darkened by blown pupils, then looks down at them.

Love. The materialisation of the feeling in two bodies pressing and twisting in ways and angles Rogers, as an artist, never dared to think of. He chases after Zemo’s face, traces the fencing scars with his tongue and tugs Zemo’s head back just a little to suck that sensitive spot on his neck. Captain America is reduced to needing what is being promised to him and to worship the man giving it to him.

Then Zemo tenses against him, hides his head on the crook of Rogers’ neck and makes a little sound Rogers had never heard. It’s new and beautiful and he wants to hear it again. There’s something warm and sticky binding them together and Rogers looks down again, wanting to see everything and store it in his memory and maybe draw it later, because it’s beautiful and deserves to be immortalized in a drawing.

Zemo keeps doing wonders to him, and it doesn’t take long to be Rogers’ turn to tense and press himself impossibly closer to Zemo, make a sound he had no idea he could make.

And he feels light, stripped of every weight and mundane worry, and there’s just him and Zemo in the world.

Just the two of them to give each other everything.

They clutch together, shaking and breathing loudly and cooling down. Rogers wants to say something, he must say something, but it’s Zemo who takes the lead again:

“Ich lieb’ dich sehr,” he mutters against Rogers’ ear. “Ich will dich, jetzt und immer!”

“Always,” Rogers promises. Nakedness is not vulnerability: this desperate clutching, the uttered words and shared pleasure _are_ the true vulnerability. They are broken, exposed, and need each other to be put together again. “Always, Helmut,” he promises again, kisses Zemo’s forehead. “Ich liebe dich sehr, auch.”

Zemo hums, pleased. He’s already dozing off, despite his best attempts at keeping his eyes open and focused on Rogers. They should bathe, but Zemo doesn’t have the gut to move: he feels at _home_ , feels Rogers pull the blanket over them and hears him make promises about a life together. He’s happy he can let his guard down, that Rogers is there for him as much as he’s there for Rogers.

Now there’s no Hydra, nor legacy, nor demanding father impossible to please. There will be, but Zemo won’t make the same mistake of tackling it down alone.

He’s a better man than his father, afterall: he can rely on others.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't I promise I'd stop making them miserable? :'D  
> Also, the song lines are from the song "Die Grenzwacht hielt im Osten".
> 
> Feeback is always appreciated!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support!!!! ;-; It means the world to me and fuels my writing!

The church bells toll six in the morning.

Rogers has been awake for a while, watching Zemo sleeping and playing with his hair. There’s something heavy on his legs, but he feels too lazy to lift himself a little and see what it is.

It would be perfect if they could stay here forever: loving and sleeping, loving and sleeping, and nothing else. But Rogers remembers Zemo telling him breakfast is at seven, and Christmas is in two days and they’ll need to return to the Avengers Tower. Rogers’ heart clenches a little at the thought for no apparent reason, because the tower is his home, and all his friends are there, and he should be glad to go back.

“Wir muss’n wasch’n…” Zemo grunts with his eyes still closed. Rogers smiles a little and wonders for how long the German has been pretending to be asleep. “Bad oder Dusche?”

“How about English?” Rogers teases and kisses Zemo’s forehead. The German chuckles, straightens his back to be at the same level as Rogers and gives him a soft peck on the lips. They stare at each other for a moment, grinning like proud unrepentant criminals, and Rogers finally can see what Zemo’s eyes look like when there isn’t coldness and hardness in them, but love:

“We must bathe: a proper bath or a shower, Steven?” he repeats, accent thick and nuzzling Rogers’ nose.

Baron Zemo has never made Rogers’ life easy, why should he do it now? A bath together sounds wonderful, but a shower is quicker – and they need to hurry up for breakfast:

“How about a shower, and a bath later?” Because they can do that, now they can stand together, naked, in the water, for as long as it pleases them. Thinking about it is arousing, and it’s a relief that Rogers doesn’t need to hide it or be embarrassed about it anymore.

Zemo nods and changes to a sitting position to scoot to the edge of the bed. He holds Rogers’ hand to lead him and Rogers is eager to follow, but as he sits, he notices the biggest and hairiest cat he’s ever seen is lying on the blanket over his legs, and the Hovawart and Dobermann are cuddled at the feet of the bed and raise their heads inquiringly at Rogers.

Steve Rogers is a decent man and he immediately pulls the blankets up to his chest, growing embarrassed. Zemo glances over his shoulder, amused:

“Seems Saga likes you!” he comments, motioning the red and white Norwegian Forest cat nestled on Rogers’ legs. “Come, you can pull your legs: she will not move.”

“Helmut, the dogs are staring…” Rogers complains, and that reminds him that he left his backpack with spare clothes in the guest room. Always holding the blanket against his chest, Rogers carefully slips his legs from under the cat and follows Zemo.

The German stands up, unashamed of his nakedness and the dogs and cat in his bedroom. He lets go of Rogers’ hand and makes his way to the bathroom, glancing over his shoulder and carrying and mixture of seductive and smug grin that makes Rogers frown, grab a pillow and cover himself with it:

“I never had pets, I’m not used to it!” he complains, trotting into the bathroom and discarding the pillow the moment he’s out of sight from Zemo’s cat and dogs.

Unlike the bathroom in the guest room, this one is spacious, with a large sink with a vintage brass tap, a shower cabin in a corner and a big clawfoot bathtub on the wall in front of the cabin. There are no windows, the tiles on the floor and walls are dark grey and a wrought iron chandelier hangs from the vaulted ceiling. 

Zemo has already turned on the water in the shower and is waiting. In that moment Baron Zemo is invitation incarnate, and though they have had moments of intimacy before, Rogers has never seen such a lascivious look on Zemo’s scarred face. Rogers likes it, will definitely draw it and steps into the shower cabin eagerly, claiming Zemo’s lips and stroking him, tentatively at first:

“Ich stellt’ uns vor, vorher…” (I imagined us, before…) Zemo mutters between kisses, allowing his hands to finally slide down past Rogers’ hips and groping at his backside. Rogers smiles and takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him, of Zemo naked and with water running down his body and plastering his blond hair to his head.

“You’re so much more than what I imagined…!” Rogers admits, smiles wider at how Zemo’s muscles twitch, and closes the distance between them again. Rogers likes the feeling of large and calloused hands against his skin and moans appreciatively when Zemo sucks at where his neck and shoulder meet.

And now Zemo can brand Rogers as much as it pleases him, because there are no Avengers around to notice tell-tale bruises on Captain America’s neck.

* * *

 

Being a possessive man, Baron Zemo had already thought about how much he would like to share his clothes with Rogers, stating publicly that man belongs to him alone while at the same time it being a gesture discreet enough for the world to miss – because who cares about Baron Zemo’s and Captain America’s civilian clothes? Nobody, the world knows them by their costumes.

The Avengers may know Zemo likes dark turtlenecks, and black cargo pants and black jeans and combat boots, while Rogers likes shirts and jeans and trainers. Yet the Avengers aren’t there, and Zemo’s staff is still not very sure that the Captain Rogers their master brought home is actually Captain America from the news in the TV and newspapers… and they don’t know his taste in clothes.

So, Zemo can’t get this pleased grin off his face while he eats breakfast and stares at Rogers, sitting next to him and wearing a black turtleneck, black cargo pants and boots – Zemo’s, and the underwear as well. By the time Zemo pulls off those clothes from Rogers, all the love bites will be gone. And so will be Zemo’s, but they can always repeat the process.

“I want to show you the rest of my castle this morning, Steven,” Zemo announces with enthusiasm. “Then, after lunch, we could drive to the village and then to Leipzig and-“

The German keeps planning the day. He’s still rather pale, but the dark rings under his eyes are smaller and are fading. Rogers smiles and nods, spreading marmalade on his toast but feeling his heart clench a little. Zemo has all these plans about them, and Rogers has noticed he’s being very careful about not mentioning his family:

“You could invite Klaus to spend a day with us,” Rogers suggests cautiously, and clenches his jaw when Zemo’s smile is gone and the German looks down, to Wulfgar lying at his feet under the table:

“It will be better if I do not, Steven… It is just two more days until Christmas, and I do want to spend my time with you, in my home, with my dogs and cats.”

“Would you call him, if we had more time?” Rogers keeps his tone cool, because he can’t promise anything. Zemo nods, slowly, then shrugs and urges Rogers to finish breakfast, so that they can finish their tour around the castle.

Once he’s finished eating, Rogers promises he’ll meet Zemo in the main bailey after he goes get his mobile – it’s in his pocket, but he claims to have left it in Zemo’s bedroom.  

Rogers runs upstairs, to the third floor, but remains in the corridor as he picks up his mobile and calls Tony. He waits for a while, only then remembering about the different time zones. He’s about to finish the call when Tony finally answers, sounding both sleepy and distressed.

Iron Man is convinced a disaster has happened and he’s ready to assemble the Avengers, ignoring every reassurance Rogers gives him. He can’t ignore, however, when Rogers announces:

“And Tony… Helmut and I will be back on the 25th, ok?”

That makes Tony fall off the couch, where he had fallen asleep, and now he’s wide awake and listening very carefully to what Captain America is saying:

“What??? Why????” he shrieks. Rogers can’t do that!! Christmas is in two days, but how is it supposed to be Christmas if the Avengers aren’t gathered, if Tony’s _best friend_ isn’t there with him??

Pacing back and forth in the corridor under the gaze of the armours, Rogers gives his best to explain himself without giving himself away:

“I think it’s only fair that Helmut gets to spend Christmas with his family. He almost died!”

“Fine, leave him there and come back!”

No, that won’t do, _because Rogers wants to be with Zemo, wants to have more time with him, wants to be free just a little bit longer_. He bites his lower lip and stops pacing, looking outside through an arrow-slit. The day is cloudy and windy and there was a storm during the night: there is ice and remains of snow everywhere:

“I can’t do that, Tony… He’s still not recovered…” Though their morning shower might say otherwise. “What if he-“

“But Steve, _we’re all here_!!!”

Rogers knows that: that his friends, that his family is at the Avengers Tower. Unfortunately for the Avengers, a big chunk of Rogers’ heart now lies somewhere else:

“I know, I’m sorry! I just…” He really is sorry, because he knows he has pretty much ruined the season for his friends. For Tony. Which isn’t fair, because he got to have Zemo back, and everyone should be happy and having a great time and they all should be together.

But they can’t fit Zemo’s family plus the Avengers in the Avengers Tower: the building has a lot of space, but not for formal celebrations; as Klaus has told Rogers, they won’t all fit in Klaus’ manor… but they could all have dinner together in Castle Zemo, because the dining room is huge and the table is very long and with enough seats. Problem is… Baron Zemo won’t want the Avengers in his lair.

And truth to be told, deep down Rogers wants to be selfish and have this little hideout. Somewhere he can hide from the world and have time to love and be loved. A place where super-heroes and super-villains won’t reach to disturb them.

There’s a prolonged silence and Rogers wonders if Tony has hung up on him. But then Tony speaks, his voice tight:

“Ok Steve. Fine, do whatever you want. But when you get here – and _it better be the 25 th_ – you’ll have a lot to explain. Zemo too,” Because it’s just not normal that the two super-soldiers were _avoiding_ each other and now they’ll spend Christmas together! “See you later, Steve.”

“Thank you, Tony!” And Rogers wants to promise he’ll be back to his friends on the 25th, but Iron Man hangs up the call.

It should have lifted a weight from Rogers, yet he just feels heavier. Also, his heart is still clenched, and now even his stomach has a knot. Is this how Zemo feels everytime he wants to make something right, but ends up worsening the situation? With a defeated sigh, Rogers shoves the mobile back into a pocket and goes to join Zemo in the main bailey.

The German is waiting for Rogers while throwing a ball at his dogs for them to fetch. Wulfgar sits by his side, clearly temped to run after the ball, but Zemo is holding its collar to keep it in place. Zemo is wrapped in his dark purple cloak and has Rogers’ on a shoulder, and he greets Rogers with a radiant smile when he notices him approaching.

Zemo’s smile, however, dies as he realises something is wrong with Rogers, despite his best efforts to hide it:

“What is it, Steven?” he asks softly, hands Rogers his cloak and helps him with the brooch. Rogers shrugs, dismissive, and attempts a smile:

“Nothing, I… I got us some extra time, you should invite your cousins for Christmas!” he exclaims, and there’s both genuine joy and a hint of sadness in his voice. Zemo frowns:

“I thought we had to go back before Christmas?” And now they have more time? It’s not that Zemo is not pleased – because he is: he’ll have time for Rogers and also for his family – but he doesn’t like the sad look on Rogers.

“Yeah, but I told Tony we’d go back on the 25th and… well, yeah, we’ll spend Christmas here. With your cousins,” Rogers shrugs once again and, to make a point on how everything is fine, attempts to play with the dogs too. But Dirk the Dobermann, currently the owner of the ball, simply leaps away from Rogers, refusing to hand over the prize to a man who’s not its master.

Zemo watches, touched, as Rogers gives his best to convince the dogs to play with him. It means a lot to Zemo that Rogers has sacrificed _the Avengers_ to be with him, and this truly is Baron Zemo’s ultimate victory. However, that doesn’t matter anymore. It lost importance the day Zemo realised Rogers meant more than power and the world, and that was also the day Zemo could have lost him for real. He understands now love is made of sacrifices, and so far they are even: Zemo sacrificed his plans, Rogers his credibility in the world of super-heroes; Zemo sacrificed himself, Rogers his friends. Now should be Zemo’s turn to sacrifice his time, tell Rogers the Avengers are welcome in Castle Zemo.

Yet he’s not ready yet to be so selfless. He wants to be surrounded by the ones he truly loves and who _truly_ love _him_. Rogers will forgive him this little fault, because he’s sure Rogers wants to be selfish too.

With a reassuring smile, he rests a hand over Rogers’ shoulder and squeezes it affectionately, making Rogers look away from the dogs and at him:

“I think… it would be fun to include geese in the Easter egg hunt,” he says softly. Rogers is confused for a moment, only to widen his eyes as he realises Zemo has just told him the Avengers can come to Germany for Easter.

Rogers has been right all along: there is true goodness and kindness in Zemo, and he smiles to the point of tearing up, merely nodding, otherwise his voice might crack.

Zemo wraps an arm around his shoulders and leads the way, with the dogs trotting excitedly around them:

“Well, Steven: you still have a castle to see before I call Klaus!”

* * *

 

From the tower that serves as headquarters for Zemo’s security guards to the smaller tower that sustains the dividing walls in the baileys, there is no curtain wall: only a gentle slope, bare, with a dirt road that stretches across the fields in front of the castle and leads to a closed gate. Near the guards’ tower stands a small building in stone – a garage, and Zemo opens the door to show Rogers a Mercedes-Benz jeep, black and sturdy and large, and a silvery BMW that Rogers is pretty sure is also a jeep disguised as expensive car.

Walking down to the meadow on the right of the castle, there are many enclosed pastures. They approach one with a dozen of sheep and some goats, outside a large stable. In the pasture in front of the sheep’s there is a handful of dairy cows, white speckled with black, that munch stacked hay from bales spread through their pasture. One of the cows is very close to the fence, so Rogers pulls off his leather glove to pet it. Another cow grows bored of being outside and walks into the stable at the other end of the pasture.

Then they proceed towards the bigger stable, attached to the indoors ring and to the largest pasture, and Zemo’s dogs dart into the stable, barking happily. Wulfgar would have followed its friends too, if only Zemo weren’t holding its’ collar.

The stable is huge, with high ceilings and a long and large corridor. It’s well-lighted and the stalls are spacious, the cobble stones on the floor are worn so that they’re not slippery and there’s a strong scent of sweet hay and clean leather in the air. Yet only six stalls have horses – others have hay bales, others are simply empty.

It’s also warm inside, and the two super-soldiers remove their cloaks and gloves:

“So, these are your famous horses!” Rogers exclaims excitedly, looking around. The horse in the first stall at the right is staring attentively at them, ignoring the dogs barking at it: the horse is black, magnificent, with a big head, a short thick neck and a strong body. It’s covered with what Rogers supposes to be a cloak for horses and it snorts as Zemo approaches it:

“Indeed, and this is my younger horse, Schatten H.,” Zemo tells proudly, like the large sign on the stall door with the horse’s name is not enough introduction. He reaches out for the horse’s head, scratching its cheeks while the horse nibbles at his face with its lips, muttering about how much he has missed it and how he’s sorry for not having visited sooner.

Rogers smiles, experiencing that already familiar feeling that he’s melting:

“Its’ cloak is the same colour as yours,” he states, and that makes Zemo chuckle:

“It is a horse blanket, Steven,” he corrects fondly, but cloak or blanket the horse looks adorable and Rogers wants to pet it too, yet the moment he approaches, Schatten moves its head away from Zemo and turns its ears back, looking all of a sudden a lot more threatening:

“He bites, Steven. I will let you around him later,” Zemo explains, cups the horse’s head again and forces it away from Rogers. “My other horses do not bite; you can pet them all you want.”

Rogers nods and walks over to the stall opposite to Schatten’s. The name on the door says Lava III, so this is Zemo’s old horse. The horse is more interested in licking a block of salt hanging from a rope than approaching the door to let Rogers pet it, which Rogers considers a shame: the horse is beautiful, seal brown and with white markings on its legs and head. It’s also wearing a dark purple blanket.

Since Lava wants nothing to do with Rogers, he moves on to the next stall. There’s a heavy draught horse in there, looking patiently at Rogers, who smiles widely and finally has the chance to pet a horse. The name on the door reads Hans and the horse is a hairy and fluffy chestnut roan, big and thick and covered by yet another dark purple blanket:

“That is my Rhenish Coldblood. He is fourteen years-old, very docile,” Zemo tells, still clinging to his horse.

“I like it,” Rogers then moves to another stall with a grey horse – an Oldenburg named Herzog – that pays him no attention and then to another stall with a chestnut horse – a Hanoverian called Blitz – that is more interested in chewing a rope toy than in acknowledging Rogers’ presence.

Finally, Rogers arrives to a stall occupied by a light grey horse that immediately looks at Rogers the moment it feels his presence. The horse is big and well-built, approaches the door eagerly and tries to nibble Rogers’ fingers with its lips. But unlike Schatten, this horse means no harm, and Rogers chuckles at the playful horse and lets it grab his fingers.

Watching, Zemo smiles in satisfaction:

“And that is Hauptmann, my ten years-old Lippizaner,” And the horse Zemo had thought would be perfect for Rogers, when he first saw Captain America on horseback. 

“Isn’t that «captain», in German?” The horse finally quiets down and lets Rogers rub its head and touch its ears. It seems to be docile while at the same time full of energy, and Rogers immediately likes it:

“It is,” Zemo pats his horse’s neck and walks over to Rogers. “You can ride him later, if you want. The farrier is coming this morning to put new horseshoes on them.”

* * *

 

With Klaus arriving in the morning of the 24th, that leaves Rogers and Zemo free to ride for as long as it pleases them after lunch and go to the village and to the city the next day.

Being a leisure rider and having learned how to ride merely because of Army formalities, Rogers never had the chance to ride such a noble horse like the Lippizaner he’s cantering with now through the fields around Castle Zemo. Zemo rides next to him on his black horse, and Rogers has never seen such a peaceful and happy expression on his face before.

Their cloaks waver dramatically with the wind, but they don’t disturb the horses. It’s the first time Rogers wears proper (borrowed) riding clothes and boots, and it’s much more comfortable than riding in his suit or jeans.

They canter along Zemo’s anti-wolf wall, that despite being a contemporary construction, has the sturdiness – and almost the height – of a medieval wall. It’s built in dark stone, now covered in ice, and it extends through Zemo’s estate in a long, snaking black line against the dark green dotted of white of the fields.

As they approach the portion of forest that belongs to the estate, Zemo slows his horse to a soft trot and instructs Rogers to do the same. Yet when they are finally inside the forest, the German tells Rogers to slow to a walk because the trees are many and very close to each other. Here it’s colder, darker and the fog creates a wall from where the black shapes of trees stretch to the sky. There’s a strong scent of humid dirt and pine; a raven caws from above and takes flight, but the horses ignore it and keep walking decidedly through the fog:

“This place has a lot of trees!” Rogers never rode on horseback on such a dense forested space, and he feels rather ungracious leading his horse left and right constantly to avoid trees. Low branches have hit his helmet-covered head a few times, and he’s now riding slightly hunched forwards, like Zemo. Eventually, Rogers gives up riding side by side with the German and merely follows him, since he appears to know a path with less obstacles.

Another raven caws, and another. A pine cone falls next to Rogers and startles his horse, but he has little trouble controlling it:

“It is more inviting in the Summer,” Zemo promises, glancing over his shoulder. He too wears a helmet. “We are almost there, Steven. I simply want to make sure my wall is properly fixed and then I will take you to the fields again.”

Rogers just nods, staring at Zemo with a fond smile. He remembers when the German showed up with a mail coif to fight Dracula, and how in that moment Rogers thought him a knight. He now tries to merge the memory of Zemo with the mail coif with the sight of him on horseback, with his dark purple cloak covering the croup and tail of his horse.

Captain America is leaving Castle Zemo with plenty of things to put into paper.

* * *

 

They still have a couple of hours before dinner, and they obviously can’t show up stinking to horse to eat the fancy meals Emilie cooks.

While Zemo fills the clawfoot bathtub, Rogers takes the chance to bring his belongings from the guest room to Zemo’s – narrowly avoiding one of Zemo’s staff walking into the living room at the end of the corridor to vacuum clean it. When Rogers makes it back to Zemo’s bedroom, the bathtub is full of steamy water and foam and Zemo is already waiting for him. The three European Tabby cats are busy running in and out of the bathroom chasing a ball; their presence makes Rogers undress hurriedly, feeling uncomfortable.

The good thing about going back to the Avengers Tower is that there will be no pets nearby to make Rogers feel embarrassed and rush what could have been a perfect teasing moment.

Settling opposite to Zemo in the bathtub, Rogers tangles their legs under water and sighs in satisfaction. He never had an immersion bath – first couldn’t afford it, then didn’t need it – but now that he’s sitting in a bathtub full of warm water and bubbles, with the man he loves within reach, he realises that indulging in luxury once in a while is not that bad.

“You seem thoughtful, Steven,” Zemo states. One of the Tabbies raises on its back legs and stretches its neck to watch them, only to dart off the bathroom the next second, following its siblings and the ball they’re playing with.

Rogers moves from his spot to join Zemo, being welcomed with open arms. Resting against the German’s chest, Rogers grabs a handful of bubbles and does the sensible thing – giving Zemo a beard:

“I realised I like to be spoiled,” By Zemo, and because Rogers can spoil back. It still feels unnatural to be served meals, and walk among antique high-class furniture, and have someone make the bed and do the laundry for him. Now, immersion baths with Zemo and riding expensive horses… Rogers can get used to that.

“You deserve to,” Zemo replies quietly, and his response to the beard is putting a foamy wig on Rogers. Of course Rogers deserves to be spoiled: Zemo loves him, and one of his ways of demonstrating affection is through grandiose luxury – like showing Rogers how wealthy he is, with such a big estate and a big castle and top cars and expensive horses and now an immersion bath in a fancy bathtub.

The few times Zemo thought about it, he always imagined himself doing exactly like his father: showering his wife in expensive jewelry. Yet he can’t give Rogers a diamond necklace, nor a haute-coutor dress.

Still, so far the fact that Zemo chose this particular man as his partner doesn’t even conflict him anymore, because Steve Rogers isn’t just _someone_. Rogers is worthy of his new position, with his noble values and being the perfect match in physical purity. Heinrich Zemo and his thoughts on the subject be damned, because Helmut Zemo is the new baron, a super-soldier, and has a very long life ahead to continue the greatness of his lineage.

He’ll eventually find a solution for the heir problem, he’s got plenty of time for that.

Now, he wants to enjoy the present without giving much thought to the future.

* * *

 

It’s still early when Zemo parks his massive jeep outside the village and leads Rogers through the narrow alleys of the medieval village. Rogers likes it very much: it’s quiet, the typical German houses are beautiful and different from everything he has seen – though he has trouble pronouncing their name. Their booted feet echo in the silence; sometimes they cross paths with people starting their days or going to work. At some point, they leave the medieval part behind and reach a large and modern square, with a statue of a warrior wearing plate armour and wielding a sword in the centre of it.

So far, Rogers has not seen or heard a single car – everyone they find is either going on foot or by bike.

Zemo stops near the statue, all pride and delight:

“This is Harbin Zemo, the first Baron Zemo and my ancestor,” He smiles proudly and affectionately as he pats the square stone that works as pedestal for the statue. “A humble town administrator elevated by the Emperor to baron, because of his bravery.”

Rogers looks up to the statue, and Harbin sports the same determined frown Rogers has seen on Zemo plenty of times.

They proceed past the modern part of the village and to the outskirts, where among fields and lonely country houses stands an old stone bridge covered in ice. There’s a sign next to it, but who needs the sign when it’s a Zemo leading the tour?

“That is the bridge where Harbin stood alone to defend these lands from a horde of invading Slavs!” Zemo tells excitedly. “The river was larger and deeper back then, and this was the only bridge available.”

The river now is merely a rivulet, and the banks are close together and they’re not very steep. Anyone can easily leap from one side to the other. Where the bridge stands, the different sides of the rivulet maintain their original distance, but not the original depth. 

After the little tour to the important monuments in the village, they go back to the jeep and Zemo drives north for about forty-five minutes to Leipzig.

The last time Rogers set foot in Leipzig, the city was destroyed by allied bombings. The buildings were smoking ruins, the streets were covered in debris and there were long queues of refugees fleeing the city. So, Rogers is pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful city made up of traditional and modern architecture. He’s pretty sure that, in the Summer, the city is littered with the green of parks and trees in the streets: but it’s Winter, and the sky is dark, the trees are naked and everything is white with a thin sheet of snow and ice.

There are plenty of museums, but since they don’t have much time, Zemo simply shows Rogers the most interesting parts of the city while they make plans to come back with more time and visit every single museum. They also visit an apartment in a building near the cathedral, where Zemo has his (currently closed) hypnotherapy office – he doesn’t have time now, and so far he’s making good money in several stocks and doesn’t need founds for research.

Baron Zemo could take them for lunch in a local restaurant, but he’s got better plans:

“Now Steven, we shall go to the Christmas market and eat some treats,” he announces, and Rogers perks up at the perspective of trying new types of food. “And maybe buy some sweets for the Avengers to make up for our absence…” Not that Zemo truly wants to give something to Thor, Hawkeye and the Hulk, they’re not that kind of friends…

* * *

 

Christmas decorations have not been used in Castle Zemo for many decades, but they’re not needed: the dining hall is filled with laughter, children’s voices and the enthusiastic barking of dogs. The table is covered in food, the fireplace is lit and, even though Zemo doesn’t have Christmas music, he sings along his relatives. Zemo’s staff has left shortly after dinner being ready and the guest rooms prepared, and now only Zemo, his relatives and Rogers are in the castle. It’s snowing outside, the cats are hiding from the ruckus in Zemo’s bedroom, but the dogs are using their best tricks to get a bit of food from everyone’s dishes. There is no gift exchange because Zemo has already taken care of that months ago, since he was convinced that, once again, he wouldn’t make it home for Christmas.

So Christmas at Castle Zemo is simply sitting at the table, eating and chatting and laughing and singing.

Rogers, on the couch in front of the fireplace and with little Wilhelm sitting on his leg and clutching to his chest, likes it very much. He doesn’t know the German lyrics of the Christmas songs, but everyone talks to him in English to include him in the party. Almost all the seats at the table were taken during dinner – people Rogers already knows from Klaus’ visit to New York, and people Rogers was just presented to.

Earlier, Captain America had been worried about meeting Zemo’s family: what if they figured it out despite their best efforts at hiding it, what if they didn’t like it, what if they didn’t want Captain America intruding their dinner? But no one said anything, everybody was kind to him and, of course, Zemo’s younger cousins were absolutely delighted about having Captain America there. Little Wilhelm had recognised him right away and hasn’t let go of him since dinner was over and he was able to escape his parents.

Now Rogers is perfectly blended in the family, chatting with everyone, petting the dogs – and even fitting in the blond-haired-blue-eyed form.

He’s telling a group of children about the Avengers when Zemo touches his shoulder and asks him to join him when he’s done with the story-telling.

Shortly after, Rogers, blindfolded, is being led by Zemo across the baileys and towards the horses’ stable. The night is cold and from the skies pours a mixture of rain and snow. Ice cracks and breaks under their boots and they wrap themselves tightly in the cloaks until Zemo opens the stable doors and they go in.

The difference in temperature is brutal and immediate. They make a brief pause for Zemo to greet and pet his black horse, then he keeps towing Rogers along the corridor:

“Helmut, why are we in the stable?” Rogers asks with a frown. He’s brought to a halt, hears a door opening and the clicking of horseshoes on cobblestone. Zemo takes his hand, gently forces what feels like a lead rope into it and removes Rogers’ blindfold.

Before Rogers can _see_ what is going on, horse teeth come right at his face – thought what nibbles at him are lips. Rogers recognises the Lippizaner immediately, and casts Zemo a confused look.

However, the German just smiles widely and shrugs nonchalantly. That is not sufficient information for Rogers, who raises his eyebrows for emphasis:

“Why did you take Hauptmann out of his stall and made me hold the lead rope?” he asks, narrowing his eyes when Zemo shrugs again, looking very smug and extremely pleased with himself:

“He is yours, now. Take him inside again and let us go back to my family.”

The horse snorts and nibbles at Rogers, who simply stares at Zemo with a confused look on his face. Slowly, he turns his face to look at the Lippizaner, then back to Zemo again:

“What?! Helmut, you can’t give me a horse! Where am I going to put him??”

“Right there, in his stall! He is yours now, to ride whenever it pleases you and to pamper and to bribe with fresh apples! Also, he enjoys very much to be groomed, but he does not like to exercise on the lead rope.”

Rogers is speechless and looks again at the Lippizaner. His Lippizaner, by the looks of it. A Christmas gift. He allows a smile to grow on his lips and scratches the horse’s cheeks, enthusiastic, and leads it back into its stall:

“I’m getting him a blue blanket, then,” he announces as he exits, closes the door and hangs the halter and lead rope. Zemo rolls his eyes dramatically:

“I did not expect otherwise…” The German hums in satisfaction as Rogers approaches and takes him in his arms, holding him close:

“I’ve got nothing to give you…”

“You already did, Steven. You gave me the chance to stay home a little longer,” Catching Rogers’ chin with his thumb and index finger, Zemo tilts Rogers’ head and looks at him adoringly: Rogers has given him too much already. He’s only retributing the best he can. Zemo captures Rogers’ lips in a passionate kiss, full of longing and promises. Rogers closes the little gap between them, fingers digging into Zemo’s back yet breaking the kiss, grazing Zemo’s bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away completely:

“We left your cousins waiting, that’s rude…” he chastises, nuzzling Zemo’s nose to let him know that Rogers is looking forwards to have Zemo’s promises fulfilled.

The German merely smiles, his violet eyes darkened by blown pupils:

“Let us return, then.”

* * *

 

Exceptionally, breakfast is served at nine. Zemo and Rogers, despite having gone to sleep well past midnight, have been awake since dawn and putting to good use all their remaining free time.

For that, Rogers will have to return to the Avengers Tower with the grey turtleneck he’s currently wearing.

Breakfast is almost as loud as dinner, with all of Zemo’s cousins speaking animatedly and over each other and all at the same time. Rogers is lucky, though: Zemo’s goth cousin is sitting next to him and they chat quietly in English about a project she would like to make for college, of a collection based on the Avengers’ outfits.

Zemo’s cousins start to leave after breakfast, all thanking Zemo for having showed up for Christmas and all thanking Captain America for having set their cousin in the right path. Klaus comes to say good-bye for last, trapping Rogers in a surprisingly strong embrace for a man so skinny and old:

“Please look after my cousin: he’s old and sometimes he’s stupid…” Klaus says when they pull apart. He looks older whenever he says things like this, and for a moment Rogers is worried about Klaus _knowing_. If he does, he doesn’t seem upset or shocked about it, yet Rogers is pretty sure that he and Zemo made a good job at not giving themselves away: they avoided touching as much as possible and were talking mostly to other people:

“I promise he won’t end up in the hospital again,” Rogers swears solemnly, meaning every word. He knows Klaus means more than that, but a relieved smile grows on Klaus’ skullish face and he nods, shakes Rogers’ hand and walks away towards Zemo to hug him good-bye.

Almost an hour later, all of Zemo’s relatives are heading back to their own homes. The castle is eerily silent now, feeling almost as oppressive as when Rogers first arrived. The good-byes continue, though: first the horses, then the cats and dogs, and then Zemo’s staff, who has returned to deal with breakfast and the guest-rooms.

Baron Zemo is strangely… okay… with leaving his home again. Only because he knows he’ll return soon, with Rogers – they have talked about it, made beautiful plans, and Baron Zemo loves planning operations, think of strategies and start offensives.

This offensive with Rogers has everything to work out and Zemo has sworn to himself he will not make more stupid mistakes.

* * *

 

Everything is silent when they teleport back to the Avengers Tower: the living room is empty, the kitchen is a mess, Mjolnir lies abandoned on one of the couches and the Christmas tree is an ungodly enormous overly-decorated eyesore. The star on top of it is still Rogers’ shield, and Captain America smiles sadly at it.

Avengers-themed Christmas stockings are hung on the back of the couch in front of the TV – and Zemo can’t help a defeated sigh when he spots the garish pink stocking with a Hawkeye-made «property of Zemo» sticker on it. It seems to have something inside, and Zemo feels both curious and dreadful of what it might be. Rogers has noticed the stocking too and bursts out laughing:

“They thought of you!” he exclaims, touched: finally, the Avengers have accepted Zemo. The German merely grunts, and together with Rogers they approach the couch to leave the presents they got the Avengers in their respective stockings.

They have just finished when Hawkeye speaks from the kitchen:

“Santa is actually Baron Zemo and the helping elf is Captain America? My childhood is ruined…” The huge smile is audible in his voice, and Zemo and Rogers turn around to look at the archer, smiling widely and sitting at the kitchen isle, still on his pyjamas.

“Why do I get to be Santa?” Zemo asks, feigning offense. Hawkeye shrugs:

“Santa Claus… Claus… there’s something German about it,” he reasons, and Rogers nudges Zemo playfully:

“He’s got a point!”

Hawkeye is tempted to see what Zemo gave him, but he needs breakfast first. That gives time for Thor and the Hulk to stumble sleepily into the kitchen, going fully awake once they notice Zemo.

The German merely grunts in annoyance as Thor lifts him from the floor with a vigorous hug and complains weakly when the Hulk smashes him in his arms. The same treatment is reserved for Rogers, and there would have been more hugging if Hawkeye didn’t rush them to hurry up because he wants to check the presents:

“Baron Christmas brought us stuff, I saw him!” Hawkeye tells excitedly. “Now I’ll write you a letter every year, Zemo!”

“I already regret my generosity…” Zemo grunts, crossing his arms in front of his chest:

“You look healed! It is good to see you in good health again, my friend!” Thor comments, and why using a bowl when it’s much easier to grab handfuls of cereal and eat directly from the box?

“How’s your dog?” the Hulk asks, slapping Hawkeye’s hand away from the carton of milk:

“Very well: the stitches will be removed tomorrow,” Maybe later Zemo can show them a picture of Wulfgar:

“Where did you guys come from, Turtleneckland?” Hawkeye snorts, looking curiously at Captain America. Rogers makes a good job at being nonchalant:

“Christmas gift,” he replies. He exchanges a look with Zemo, who gives him a victorious smile, and he can’t help but smile too. “Also… I got a horse. He’s named Hauptmann.”

“I hope you didn’t give me a horse, Zemo!” Hawkeye complains with his mouth full of cereal.

Honestly, Baron Zemo has missed this mess that are the Avengers.

The Hulk and Hawkeye start a discussion about shrunken horses and Pym Particles. Falcon joins them in the kitchen, greeting Zemo and Rogers enthusiastically and getting himself breakfast. Natasha shows up shortly after and the first thing she notices is that Baron Zemo and Captain America in matching turtlenecks are ridiculous, suspicious… and maybe a little bit adorable.

Tony comes in last, making a beeline for Rogers and giving him a bear hug. He then greets Zemo cordially, remarks that he looks better and asks about his dog, then makes himself breakfast while telling Rogers how Christmas without Captain America is no fun.

In the meantime, Hawkeye has finished eating and is dying to go investigate his Christmas stocking. He manages to wait patiently while everyone else is eating, and when Tony finally puts down his empty coffee mug, Hawkeye darts to the Christmas stockings and picks up his enthusiastically.

Zemo and Rogers brought German chocolate and pastries for everyone – and even Tony and Natasha are pleasantly surprised. Yet only Thor, Hawkeye and the Hulk have put something in Zemo’s Christmas stocking: three pink socks, and Zemo can’t help but burst out laughing when he sees them.

While Zemo and his favourite Avengers engage in friendly bickering, Tony pulls Rogers aside, looking very serious, and they sit together at the kitchen isle:

“So, what did Zemo give you for Christmas?” Tony asks nonchalantly, but clearly wanting to know if he still gives Rogers the best presents. Rogers smiles, something of an apology in it:

“This turtleneck… and a horse.”

“ _A horse_ …” Tony repeats. His tech is better than a horse. He’s still giving the best presents. “You’ve got a lot to explain, Steve… namely, why you two went from avoiding each other to spending Christmas together in Germany,” At this, Rogers sighs disappointedly as a hoard of problems that had been kept at bay during his little vacation in Castle Zemo comes back in all its might, overwhelming and stressing and making him overthink things again. “But we can talk about that tomorrow.”

Yeah, that’s good. Will give him time to share the problem with Zemo, and they can decide how they’re getting out of this... and their ‘status’, what are they going to do about it? Should they tell the Avengers? But if they did, they would have to tell Zemo’s relatives too as a matter of fairness… and how is it going to be for them afterwards?

What is everyone going to think? There will be a lot of disapproval. _Iron Man will not approve_. And the media!! The media will hunt them down, cage them, skin them, expose their mutilated bodies for all to see and then kill them! And the other super-heroes? And the public?

“And Steve?” Tony’s voice breaks Rogers’ train of thought. He finds Tony smiling fondly at him. “I’m glad you’re back, and that… you’re okay with Zemo, now. Good to see you happy again.”

* * *

 

“What are going to do?” Rogers asks sometime later, after everyone has had pizza for lunch and has either retreated into their own quarters or labs. He’s lying side by side with Zemo, on Rogers’ bed, but for the time being their clothes will stay on.

Zemo hums, thoughtful, staring at the ceiling.

Indeed, what to do? He would like to not have this conversation, he doesn’t want to be uncomfortable with himself again, doesn’t want to think of how his father would be disappointed, doesn’t want to think about the future of the house of Zemo. But it’s not like he can decide everything on his own, now. No, he needs to consider Rogers, and how he must feel wrong in his own skin as well, and how he too worries about what the Avengers will think and what his future as Captain America, national symbol and idol for millions, is going to be.

It's a lot. They didn’t have this much to think about in Germany. No Avengers, no Hydra… just the two of them.

He sighs, chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment, then begins to think aloud:

“We cannot let them know… or they will think I am using you and I will end up in the Vaults…” He grimaces and Rogers nods sadly in agreement. “Schmidt and Strucker are still on the loose, we still need to decide about Hydra, we-“

“I think that’s the easiest part…” Turning to lie on his side, Rogers then pushes himself to a sitting position. “You said… you wanted to make Hydra a companion to S.H.I.E.L.D. and to the Avengers,” And take Rogers with him and break the Avengers apart, but Rogers doesn’t want to remember that. He simply wants to think about Zemo’s desperate confession about his change of heart.

Because he loves Rogers, and became a better man for him.

Zemo nods, cautious and looking slightly wary:

“So, we’ll deal with Hydra, the Red Skull and Strucker first… and after we got that sorted out, we can think the next step.”

Zemo wants to complain: a plan of attack comprises _everything_ , from the big picture to the smallest details. Rogers’ plan is merely… _tactic_ , not _strategic_. Yet, he must admit it’s easier this way… baby steps instead of gigantic strides.

Maybe that is why he’s currently lying on Rogers’ bed, instead of sitting on a throne.

“Will you be my general?” he asks, hopeful, and reaches out to intertwine his fingers with Rogers’. Captain America smiles, stretches the silence between them for a little longer and has Zemo holding his breath in anticipation.

Then Rogers lies atop of Zemo, nuzzling his snub nose affectionately:

“Yeah, I can do that…”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorks are still happy.  
> Still... happy... :')
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your feedback!!!! I'm so glad that you people are enjoying the adventures of these two dorks!!
> 
> Also college started, which means I won't be able to make frequent updates. :')

It takes some time, but the next day Iron Man is grudgingly convinced that what caused the schism between Captain America and Baron Zemo were indeed Zemo’s memories: especially those of conducting cruel experiments in innocent prisoners of war/low-ranking Hydra soldiers.

Which in fact did happen, but no need to upset Rogers with that.

Rogers also manages to convince Tony that Castle Zemo is merely a living space, and that if there are secret labs with weapons in the castle, he did not see them.

With Tony Stark’s curiosity placated, preparations for the New Year can begin: out with the Christmas stuff, that is promptly replaced by glittery and extravagant decorations for the New Year party.

And this time Baron Zemo isn’t hiding in his bedroom and blocking the Avengers’ excited ruckus with classical music; no, Zemo is helping in decorating (waging a war of good taste against Tony Stark), aided by his faithful Asgardian minion, Thor.

The Hulk and Hawkeye have self-excluded from Zemo’s interior design team under the excuse that everything is «too orderly».

By the New Years’ Eve, when the Avengers’ guests arrive to the tower, they clearly see the differences between Iron Man’s exuberant and somewhat chaotic decorations and Zemo’s plentiful yet smartly displayed decorations.

And Captain Marvel, the Thunderbolts, Ant-Man and Black Panther admit: Baron Zemo without his mask is a strange sight to behold, and he certainly is an almost changed man. _Almost_ , because he still regards the new-arrived with despise and casts hateful looks at the Thunderbolts. Other than that, he’s cordial to Tony and Black Widow, and _friendly_ to Thor, Hawkeye, the Hulk and Falcon.

With Captain America, however, he oscillates between formality and… familiarity? Though they don’t talk much together, socializing with others instead. Captain Marvel is still suspicious Baron Zemo is toying the Avengers and especially Captain America, and not even Tony’s resigned explanation on «old men who talk about old stuff» is enough to put her at ease. Black Panther also finds hard to believe _Baron Zemo_ changed ways; the Thunderbolts want to believe Captain America has made a miracle; Ant-Man is here for the food and fun and friends are never too much.

Rogers and Zemo don’t linger in each other’s’ company for long because it would be too tempting. They talk and sit next to each other sometimes, but they’re careful in the way they look and speak at each other, and the way they gesture and how close they stand.

Not that it will save them from Thor and Natasha, who -accidentally - already know: Thor is not very discreet at how he looks expectantly at Captain America and Baron Zemo, hoping they’ll show each other affection to have a chance to congratulate them; Natasha is obviously more discreet, and she pities them for going through a New Year party together yet… apart.

It all changes the moment they’re behind closed doors. Zemo withdraws from the party first, going straight into Rogers’ bedroom and waiting for almost half an hour for Rogers to join him. Zemo isn’t using his room anymore, even teleported his furniture and books back to Germany, and usually only waits in there until there’s no one to see him sneaking in Captain America’s bedroom.

By themselves, they can kiss and touch all they want, voice all the promises they could only think of at midnight. Longing kissing is quickly replaced by insatiable need. It will be late in the morning when Rogers and Zemo finally grace the others with their presence, looking very well-rested despite having gotten merely a couple of hours of sleep.

* * *

 

Two weeks into the new year and apparently, all super-villains and petty criminals are still in vacation.

Which is just great, the Avengers and Zemo totally don’t mind that, and they can spend their time doing enjoyable things: Tony and Falcon can tinker all day long in the lab and workshop, the Hulk can go out for bowling, Natasha can indulge in her much beloved mix of ballet/fighting, Thor and Hawkeye and Zemo can play videogames and Rogers can draw.

The last time Rogers was in such a drawing spree he had just been taken out of the ice, and it was his only way of relaxing. Now, he’s merely very inspired.

It’s little past six in the morning and Rogers is already awake, sitting in the bed with his back against the pillow and working on another drawing. Zemo’s arm wrapped possessively around his waist is the perfect support for his sketchbook. The German seems to be immune to the scratching of pencil on paper and to the rain hammering the windows.

And Captain America is so focused on his drawing he almost doesn’t notice a tiny spider approaching him, walking decidedly over the blanket over his legs. He just notices it when he puts down the drawing to reach out for the pencil-sharpener, and frowns in confusion at the approaching spider.

So, Rogers does the reasonable thing: he closes his sketchbook and whacks the spider with it. Surprisingly… the spider is smashed with a crash, almost like metallic pieces falling apart, and when Rogers lifts his sketchbook, he can confirm that the spider was merely a robot.

“Helmut?” He shakes the German by the shoulder, instantly in Captain America mode: if he has just smashed a small robot, then trouble is coming and they need to equip, assemble the team and show them the destroyed robot.

Yet Zemo just grunts and burrows his head in his pillow:

“ ‘s ist los…?”

“What happened is that I just destroyed a robot!”

Definitely not the way Zemo was counting on waking up. With another grunt, he turns on his back and pushes himself to a sitting position, squinting menacingly at the destroyed robot for interrupting his sleep. Rogers still marvels at how Baron Zemo can go from being immediately awake and functional to being a grunting mess who can’t even speak English.

The German pokes at the remains of the robot, blinking his eyes quickly as his brain sets into its usual quick-thinking pace, and he exchanges a suspicious look with Rogers.

Shortly after they are both suited up in a lab and Zemo is examining the little pieces under the microscope. It’s a slow process, because most of the components are smashed and broken into very small pieces, and even F.R.I.D.A.Y. is taking time to scan the pieces and try to put them back together:

“Who do you think you are, the Hulk?” Zemo complains half-heartedly: _definitely not how he had expected to wake up_.

Rogers is pacing around the lab and casts the German a playful smile:

“Fine, Helmut: next time I see something weird crawling on our bed, I’ll let it bite you.”

“You would do not such thing, you love me too much!” The hurt in Zemo’s voice and the indignant look on his face when he looks up from the microscope to Captain America makes Rogers burst out laughing. Zemo narrows his eyes for a moment, then realises Rogers was just playing and his face softens.

Still, Rogers comes to a halt and becomes serious:

“Of course I love you too much to let something bite you…” Seriousness becomes seductiveness. “Only I have permission to bite.”

Zemo nods in agreement and goes back to the task at hand, immediately finding something of interest:

“There is a brand in this piece… JH…?”

Rogers narrows his eyes and continues to pace around the lab:

“Must be Justin Hammer!”

“Hm, Stark’s rival in the tech industry?” Zemo turns his attention to Rogers again. He sounds disappointed about having his morning ritual thwarted by Iron Man’s petty concurrence. Yet Rogers has just thought about something that might be the answer to the robot mystery, and by the grimace on his face… it’s not a good thing.

“He teamed up with the Red Skull, once…” Rogers starts, and Zemo’s enraged expression is all Captain America needs to know Zemo understands his point.

The Red Skull and Baron Strucker must be behind the tiny robot. But why? And what are they planning? Do they know Zemo is still alive?

Just when Rogers is about to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. to call Iron Man, Black Widow comes in the lab, walking rather stiffly and carrying her batons. She ignores Rogers’ greeting and walks past him, straight towards Zemo, who frowns and ducks right on time to avoid the beginning of her attack:

“Natasha!!! What are you doing???” This is not good, why is she attacking Zemo? Rogers rushes to them and holds Natasha’s arms. But she’s his friend, and he doesn’t want to hurt her, so he doesn’t hold her tight and she manages to escape, push him away and go after Zemo.

Baron Zemo doesn’t share Rogers’ concerns and meets Black Widow with a hook kick that sends her flying across the lab:

“Helmut, don’t hurt her!!” And should Rogers go check on her or take Zemo out of the lab?

“Well, then tell her not to hurt _me_!” the German hisses angrily, eyeing Black Widow warily as she jumps to her feet and attacks him again.

Rogers goes to stand between them, yelling at Natasha to stop, but she leaps over him to get to Zemo, landing behind him and electrocuting him with her batons.

And now Baron Zemo is very angry and turns around abruptly, hitting a closed fist on the side of her head and knocking her down momentarily. Rogers curses and rushes past Zemo to catch Natasha before she hits the floor:

“Why is she attacking me??” Zemo asks, aggrieved, and why is Rogers helping _her_??

“I don’t know!! What did you do this time, Helmut??”

“Why do you assume I have done something???”

No no no, they don’t need an argument right now. They don’t need arguments _ever again_. Rogers takes in a steadying breath, lies Natasha on the floor and nearly jumps out of his skin when the Hulk and Thor break down the wall of the lab and charge towards Zemo.

For the next twenty minutes, Baron Zemo is running up and down the Avengers Tower, defending himself and fighting, followed closely by violent Avengers and by Rogers, yelling at his friends to not hurt Zemo and yelling at Zemo to not hurt the Avengers and yelling at F.R.I.D.A.Y. to hurry up with her scans to figure out what is wrong with the Avengers.

After what feels like an eternity, the AI is finally able to tell Rogers that Black Widow, Hawkeye, Falcon, Thor, Iron Man and the Hulk have spider-sized robots lodged on the back of their necks, and said tiny robots are emitting a mind-controlling frequency especially adjusted for their brain capacity. The solution to stop it is simple: destroy the robots. This reminds Rogers of how the Avengers Mansion got destroyed by the Avengers _themselves_ immediately after teaming up again and being controlled by M.O.D.O.K.

The easiest to deal with is the Hulk: Rogers merely jumps at his back and manages to smash the robot with a closed fist before being tossed to the other side of the living room. The Hulk is momently confused, looking around like he’s not very sure where he is, and he’s even more surprised when he sees Zemo fighting Hawkeye for real:

“Mind-control. Robots. Smash!” Rogers explains briefly, tackling an incoming Black Widow to the ground to destroy the spider-sized robot on the back of her neck.

The Hulk needs no further explanation and leaps at Hawkeye:

“Hulk is sorry! Gonna help you, Sock-Face!”

Little later, the Avengers are all staring at each other in a semi-destroyed living room, confused and feeling slightly dizzy; Iron Man and Falcon demand to know who tore off the headpieces of their suits; Natasha is very worried about a nasty bruise on Rogers’ cheek – she doesn’t remember being responsible for that.

And Baron Zemo is _furious_ , half-buried under a couch Thor threw at him and yelling in German about wanting to know exactly what was this treacherous attack to his noble person. The Avengers almost can’t listen to Rogers’ explanation about mind-control under Zemo’s thunderous voice.

Wanting to be helpful and show Zemo they mean to harm, the Hulk hurriedly lifts the couch and Thor grabs Zemo by an arm and helps him to his feet. Yet the German shakes his arm free and stumbles away from the Asgardian, looking around with a glower and staring daggers at all the super-heroes. Rogers included. Clenching his jaw, Zemo storms off towards the bedrooms corridor and into his old bedroom.

Natasha and Thor catch the heartbroken look on Rogers’ face, and exchange a guilty look – though technically… this is isn’t their fault:

“How did you not…?” Tony asks, looking at the tiny broken robot pieces in his hand. Rogers sighs, feeling exhausted despite it still being morning:

“I… I was drawing and I saw it crawling to me, I thought it was a spider and I… killed it…” He clenches his jaw, thinks of what to say next. “I… you were still sleeping, and I know Helmut wakes up early too, so-“

“Perhaps you should go talk to Helmut and let Iron Man do his scientific labour!” Thor suggests way too eagerly and even starts pushing Tony towards the lift. Natasha nods in approval and, in turn, pushes Rogers gently towards the corridor:

“Yeah, I mean… we didn’t really want to hit Zemo… go talk to him.”

Rogers is grateful that his friends understand they have pissed off the German, and he hurries after Zemo:

“I think it was Justin Hammer, Helmut found a «JH» branding in a piece!” Rogers tells over his shoulder. “Schmidt and Strucker might be with him!”

And that’s enough of Avengers business for the moment. Now, Rogers needs to talk to Zemo before his bad mood makes any more damage.

* * *

 

Baron Zemo paces around his old bedroom like a caged beast. He’s confused and humiliated and hurt and _maybe_ destroying the Avengers wasn’t such a bad idea…

The fact that Rogers asked right away what he had done this time is especially… painful. Zemo hasn’t felt like this in a while, would like it to stop and never come back.

He stops when the door opens and Rogers comes in sheepishly. Zemo narrows his eyes and watches as Rogers approaches, guilt written all over his face, but steps back when Rogers reaches out to touch him:

“Do not, you suspected of me!” Zemo snarls bitterly. Yet Rogers doesn’t give up and approaches him again, carefully resting a hand on his arm:

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“But you did! After all we have been through!” But the moment he says this, Zemo clenches his jaw and gives his own words a thought.

Indeed, they have been through a lot: misunderstandings, deceiving and dishonesty. Mostly Zemo’s. So, should he really blame Rogers for being suspicious in a moment of stress? No matter how much that hurts him, Baron Zemo knows it’s… a natural reaction.

But it hurts! And even though Zemo wasn’t exactly honest in the beginning… what they have now should erase suspicions!

Rogers sees Zemo’s inner conflict in his violet eyes, in the way they look from Rogers to somewhere else, by how Zemo’s scars twitch slightly as he frowns and clenches his jaw and presses his lips together in a bitter line. He takes the chance that Zemo is sorting out things by himself to rub Zemo’s arm softly, and since he’s not being pushed away, he finally cups Zemo’s face with a hand.

“I’m sorry, Helmut. I didn’t mean it, I shouldn’t have said it…” Rogers tries again in a quiet tone, and Zemo merely looks away like a disappointed petulant child. “I don’t want us to fight.”

“I am innocent!” the German grunts, pouting, and crosses his arms in front of his chest to protect himself from all the unfairness in the world:

“I know Helmut, it was the robots. I’m sorry… Please…”

By the way the pout disappears from Zemo’s lips, Rogers can tell the German doesn’t want to fight either. Still being careful, Rogers tilts Zemo’s face towards him and captures his lips in a kiss, apologetic and loving and reassuring. Zemo sighs in both defeat and relief, and wraps his arms around Rogers, pulling him close.

None of them want to think about what would have happened if Rogers hadn’t noticed the little robot. They certainly dodged a bullet, and whoever is responsible for this attempted murder is going to feel the wrath of Baron Zemo.

Later, of course, when he’s not busy holding on to Rogers and being pampered.

* * *

 

“This is definitely Hammer’s tech,” Tony confirms later that day, when they are all gathered in the briefings room. “Poor quality, cheap finishings and his initials branded on it.”

“I thought Stark branded his pieces, too…” Zemo whispers to Hawkeye, who snorts:

“Yeah, but he thinks it’s ridiculous when it’s Hammer doing it and-“

“Hey, if you wanna gossip, then go back to passing notes!” Tony complains annoyedly, frowning at Baron Zemo and Hawkeye. The German gives him his best unimpressed grin:

“Steven had already concluded who the tech belonged to, this morning…”

“Quoting ‘Steven’, «I think it was Justin Hammer!!»” Tony smiles victoriously, like he just gave a perfectly valid reply to Baron Zemo. The German rolls his eyes. “I’ll translate it for you: Cap _wasn’t sure_ it was Hammer. I confirmed it was.”

“And now what do we do?” Falcon asks, putting an end to the petty quarrel before it escalates. It’s not that watching Tony and Zemo bickering isn’t fun, but Falcon has an essay to write and the sooner this briefing is over, the better.

Tony gestures to a large holographic screen behind him with a map. A red dot pops up in the north:

“I have put Hammer under surveillance since the Super-Adaptoid incident and-“

“What is the term, stalking?” Zemo asks Hawkeye loud enough for Tony to hear. The archer chuckles and from across the table Captain America frowns menacingly at Zemo, shushing him immediately.

“-and while Cap was busy convincing our German friend that we didn’t mean to attack him, I tracked down Hammer to a vacation resort and hacked the security system,” Beaming pride for his successful work, Tony starts to pace back and forth. “And I discovered that he’s been meeting these two gentlemen, whose faces are no more than a hologram and-“

“Schmidt and Strucker…” Zemo snarls and narrows his eyes. Rogers was right, this was their doing. “They must have figured that only half the dose of the virus would not kill me and have decided to use you Avengers instead.”

Now that his brilliant finale was ruined, Tony sits down at the table, visibly annoyed. Since Zemo spoiled the fun, then they better go straight to the point:

“So, do we call S.H.I.E.L.D. or do we go there?” he asks everyone.

A debate ensues, but Zemo remains silent, thoughtful… and there’s something malicious on the way he narrows his eyes and purses his lips. Rogers is the first to notice it and he doesn’t like what he’s seeing:

“Helmut?” he calls, urging Zemo to speak his mind. The German grins, baring his teeth and seeming delighted with whatever he’s planning:

“You will do nothing… _I_ will hypnotise Schmidt and Strucker…” That velvety voice again, the portent of doom disguised as civil talk. Natasha nods, interested, but Hawkeye is skeptical:

“Yeah? How? You’re not there!”

“I will do the same I did to Steven!”

A heavy silence takes over the conference room, and maybe this wasn’t the smartest way to say it. Zemo sits even straighter on his chair, feeling suddenly uncomfortable and looking at Rogers for guidance. Captain America doesn’t seem offended and nods, encouraging Zemo to proceed.

“The Avengers’ earpieces work with radio waves…” the German begins, a little of his initial arrogance having left his voice. “… the same frequency that Stark uses to communicate with his company. Almost as secure as the government’s itself. _Almost_ …”

“You absolute madman, you captured our frequency???” Tony can’t believe it. He’s a genius, he created that frequency himself, it should be virtually impossible for someone to figure it out!

But he has to admit: if Zemo was able to operate Kang’s tech to build a fully functional time machine while Tony was still trying to understand it… then he shouldn’t be surprised that from all the super-villains interested in bringing doom to the Avengers, it had to be Baron Zemo discovering the radio wave frequency.

“It was not easy, but I do have patience sometimes,” The arrogance is back and the German smirks. That, and he was a really stubborn old man. Still is… “Eventually, I found your frequency, I isolated Steven’s channel… and it was simply a matter of time to have him hypnotised.”

“So you just… talked to him??” Hawkeye is very disappointed, almost like he was irreparably wronged. “I thought you knew these ancient hypnosis techniques and… I dunno, telepathy??”

“It is about knowing how to use my voice and the right choice of words, fool…”

“But then you just… you just talked to Steve??? Seriously??? You just did that???” Tony sounds almost as disappointed as Hawkeye. Zemo grunts in disbelief at how pathetic the Avengers are.

And he befriended them.

“To make it easier for your understanding… yes, I did talk to Steven. For nearly three months, every night, for a person is more susceptible in their sleep.”

That explained why Zemo always removed his earpiece at night and why he insisted that Rogers did the same. Captain America is impressed and tries to remember the months before coming face to face with Zemo for the first time, but he can’t recall anything special, any strange dream, any accented voice whispering in his ear.

“Hydra, too, communicates through radio waves. I know the frequency, all I need to do is to find Strucker’s and Schmidt’s channels…” He turns to look at Hawkeye and smiles slyly. “… and talk to them into surrendering and handing over Hydra.”

“You’re a party-pooper, I really thought you knew these weird fancy tricks…” Hawkeye mutters and crosses his arms with a pout.

Sounds like a good plan: if it worked with _Captain America_ , then it certainly will work on the Red Skull and Baron Strucker too. Natasha wants to be with Zemo whenever he does the hypnosis, both to give S.H.I.E.L.D. Hydra’s frequencies and to learn a few tricks that might come in handy.

And since the Avengers won’t need to rush to the jet and go for a fight, they can stay at home and relax – except for Zemo and Natasha, who are going to work on the frequencies right away.

“Well, since we’re staying, I can order pizza for dinner and we can all watch a documentary about Cap!” Tony suggests when they’re all in the lift. Everyone cheers, except for Rogers and for Zemo, who notices Captain America doesn’t sound thrilled about watching a documentary about himself:

“You guys watch it, I’m going to draw,” he says quietly. “I still want the pizza, though.”

“Can I watch it, Steven?” Zemo asks, and next to him Hawkeye groans and throws his arms in the air:

“Don’t get sappy while I’m here!!!” he whines, only to have Thor frown at him:

“It is good when two people-“ The Asgardian feels Natasha’s warning glower in his back and chooses his words carefully. “-that are close friends respect each other!”

“It’s okay, Helmut… I did see some of your memories, remember?” Rogers gives Zemo a reassuring smile that has Hawkeye rolling his eyes and the lift stops in the living quarters’ floor. The doors open and the Avengers exit, except for Zemo and Black Widow, who will go down to a lab to work on the radio frequencies:

“Just don’t start talking about the war and Nazi stuff…” Tony grunts and glances at Zemo over his shoulder, before the doors close again and the lift continues down.

* * *

 

Rogers has one sketchbook just for more private drawings: portraits of Peggy, of Bucky, of streets of Brooklyn like they used to be, of battle scenes from the war… and now drawings of Zemo.

An ungodly amount of Zemo nudes, from various small ones herded together in one page to large ones that take an entire page. Steve Rogers sometimes stars in some of those drawings too, and he never thought he would do so well in self-portraits.

Yet now that he’s shading the drawing he was working on before being interrupted by the spider-like robot that morning, Rogers doesn’t feel the usual happiness those drawings give him.

Because right now, Zemo is in the living room with the Avengers, watching a documentary about Captain America. One of many, but like all the others, it shows Rogers’ life before the super-soldier serum.

Even though they have talked about it… Zemo had never _seen_ it. Rogers doesn’t have pictures, and he has been carefully avoiding the Captain America and Avengers museums, because those have pictures of a skinny and ill Rogers.

Captain America never thought he would feel… ashamed… of his former self. He never did, when his friends saw the pictures in the documentaries and at the museums. And right now he feels _ashamed of being ashamed_. He feels uncomfortable and even a little anxious about what Zemo might think. Rogers doesn’t want to be pitied, or made fun of, or thought inferior.

Because in his youth Baron Zemo wasn’t very different from what he is now. Not so tall and not so bulky, but still in peak physical condition.

Rogers can’t focus on his drawing and leaves it aside, trading it for the book at his bedside table. He manages to read two pages, then hears the door of his bedroom opening slowly and looks up to see Zemo sneaking in.

The German smiles and strides to the bathroom:

“I need a shower, the Hulk burped on my face,” The smile is gone and the accusation/complaint in Zemo’s voice makes Rogers chuckle. “Do you wish to join me after I have washed?”

Rogers hesitates, watching Zemo undress before getting in the bathroom. Yet right now, Rogers doesn’t feel like it:

“I… maybe later…” he answers and looks down at the book again.

Zemo stands there naked and tilts his head, but says nothing. He showers quickly, dries himself and goes back into the bedroom. Rogers casts him a furtive glance over the book, but remains silent. With a frown, Zemo puts on a pair of boxers and crawls on the bed towards Rogers, flopping down when he reaches Rogers’ side:

“What is it, Steven?” Zemo asks and lazily takes the book from Rogers’ hands. “You seem upset.”

“I’m not,” Rogers replies patiently. He’s not upset, not with Zemo.

The German hums, sits and scoots closer to Rogers, so that he stands side by side with him:

“Is it about the documentary, Steven? Because you did not seem thrilled about it, earlier…”

Or _maybe_ Zemo does have telepathic powers! Most likely, he’s good at reading people and knows Rogers all too well.

With a defeated sigh, Rogers leans on Zemo. A strong arm wraps protectively around him and he rests his head on Zemo’s shoulder:

“It’s just…” What do you think of me, now that you _saw_ what I was? Would you still love me? Still want me by your side? Rogers realises it sounds too lame, too… inappropriate, for a super-soldier to ask. He sighs, thinks on how to rephrase it. “In a parallel universe… where we would meet, but neither of us would have the super-soldier serum…” Rogers cringes at his own words, at how insecure he feels. “… would you still love me?”

Raising an eyebrow, Zemo hums again. There, he knew Rogers wasn’t fine the moment he declined joining him in the shower. Resting his head against Rogers’, Zemo gives his words a thought.

In a parallel universe without the super-soldier serum, Rogers would be small and scrawny and ill and poor. The peak of lower class, the extreme opposite to Zemo, who would be tall and muscular and healthy and still a wealthy baron. Rogers would not be the worthy and matching partner Zemo had always wished for.

Yet what did the serum do? It had simply changed Rogers in the outside.

Because Rogers’ qualities… have always been _his_. The documentary had mentioned it briefly, but it took knowing Rogers personally to completely understand it.

And it was those qualities that Zemo had first noticed – and had reluctantly admitted to appreciate. It was those qualities that had made Zemo comfortable to realise what the serum had done. It was those qualities that had made Zemo see nobility and worth in Rogers.

He kisses Rogers’ blond head:

“I would,” Zemo makes an effort to say it in English, because Rogers wouldn’t understand it in German. “Because I first took a liking on _you_ , not in what the serum _did to you_. You, Herr Rogers, have all the chivalrous and noble qualities I admire, even if I do not always agree with just how noble you are…”

There’s a moment of silence and Zemo can fell all worries leaving Rogers, who lifts his head to give Zemo the most beautiful smile ever and look at him in that way that swipes Zemo off his feet. Sometimes words are simply not enough, and this is one of those moments: Rogers can’t voice what that means to him, what that does to him.

So he captures Zemo’s lips in a passionate kiss, and he’s going to redeem himself for not having joined Zemo in the shower by giving them a reason to take another shower.

* * *

 

It takes a couple of days for Zemo to discover the Red Skull’s and Strucker’s channels, and he spends a few hours every night hypnotising them into surrendering and handing Hydra over to him.

Black Widow stays during the entire procedure, and though she still thinks it’s a bad idea to let Zemo in charge of Hydra, she’s also curious to know what he will really do… because of Captain America. She has confirmed her suspicions that Rogers is the reason why Zemo, being the evil maniac he is, doesn’t spend the whole night in the lab and stays just a few hours – pretending to get in her room, she actually left the door ajar and, after some minutes, heard steps in the corridor and all she had to do was peeking a little to see Zemo sneaking in Captain America’s room.

Rogers is happy, and for that Natasha is willing to make an effort and believe Baron Zemo is indeed a changed man with chronic bad temper that won’t do a thing to harm Captain America and the Avengers. While Rogers is fine, Natasha doesn’t mind sitting there in the lab with Zemo and exchange a few words about different fighting styles and psychology.

Even Tony admits that yeah, Zemo might be a changed man and he’s a good asset to the team. Yet he still doesn’t like the German… and the main reason is that Rogers keeps preferring to do stuff with him instead of with Tony.

Like now, when Rogers has interrupted Tony’s coffee-break to talk about going to Germany for the weekend and Tony can’t understand _why_ :

“Because I want to see my horse, and visit these museums in Leipzig…” Rogers replies patiently, and Tony rolls his eyes at the part about Rogers’ horse:

“We could all go to museums here…”

“You guys don’t even like museums!”

Point taken: the Avengers _do not like_ museums – except for Natasha and Falcon. Tony groans, frustrated, and he really hates it when Zemo has qualities he does not and that Rogers appreciates. Like… enjoying museums.

“Whatever Cap, go spend your weekend looking at old German stuff in a museum…” Tony finally grunts in defeat. “Just bring me more chocolate, when you return…”

“I’ll test-drive some of your stuff when I get back. With chocolate,” Rogers promises and pats Tony’s shoulder amiably.

It’s going to be a nice surprise for Zemo, and later, when the German returns from the lab, Rogers tells him between kisses that he should tell his butler that they’re going to spend the weekend at the castle.

Hypnosis be damned.

* * *

 

They teleport from the tower in a Friday morning to materialise in the main bailey of the castle in a cold afternoon.

This time, the dogs are more welcoming to Rogers. Wulfgar is healed and its fur has almost completely grown back to normal where it had to be shaved for the stitches. Zemo’s staff is also warmer towards Rogers, now that they have learned from Klaus exactly who is this Captain Rogers the baron brought home, and what Rogers is doing for Zemo. Yet all the cats but Siegfried still hide under the divan in Zemo’s quarters.

The first thing Rogers does after dropping his backpack in Zemo’s bedroom is going to see Hauptmann. Zemo goes with him, and the dogs join them in happy cacophony, running in circles around them and barking loudly.

Rogers is pleased to see that _his_ horse still remembers him and comes trotting from the other end of the pasture to the fence to greet him, followed closely by Zemo’s horse… that still wants to bite Rogers. They take the two horses out, put them on lead ropes and go for a walk across the fields in the estate, making plans about what museums to see and how much time they’ll spend in the castle.

Yet Baron Zemo has his own secret agenda for tonight: after dinner, he urges Rogers to follow him to the attic, where Zemo has kept all his belongings from his military training – like sleeping bags, flashlights and thick camo coats. With the coats on, carrying two sleeping bags and a flashlight, they exit the main building, leaving the dogs inside because it’s too cold, and cross the main bailey to the lower bailey towards the keep. Everything is dark and Rogers walks behind Zemo holding his shoulder.

They climb to the last floor of the keep – Zemo’s office, and there’s a trapdoor on the ceiling that they get to with a ladder Zemo keeps in the office:

“I had not come here in ages!” Zemo confesses when they stand on the top of the keep, a large rectangular space with wood floor. The wind is freezing up here, howling past the structure of the keep and through the merlons on top of it. He then instructs Rogers to get inside a sleeping bag and does the same, lying next to Rogers on the floor and leaving the flashlight over his legs.

Lying on his back and looking up to the sky, Rogers finally understands why Zemo has brought them to the cold: the Winter sky is dark, immense and clear, allowing them to see an amount of starts they can’t in the city. The moon smiles at them.

All that light so distant in the sky makes the night suddenly brighter, and Rogers holds his breath for a moment, ecstatic, looks at Zemo to smile widely at him and then looks up again to the sky:

“There’s the Big Dipper!” he exclaims, and would point if his arms weren’t tucked in the sleeping bag:

“That is how it is called in English?” Zemo frowns, because it definitely sounds better in German.

They spend some time in the cold, nestled in their sleeping bags and finding constellations, pressed together and headbutting each other softly at times.

It’s late in the night when they return to the main building. All the lights are out, which means the staff has left for their own quarters, on the tower at the end of the main bailey. The dogs were waiting for them in the hall and after barking excitedly around them run upstairs, bumping against each other in the process.

Rogers chuckles, undresses his thick coat and gloves, puts the gloves inside a pocket of the coat and hangs it on a dark coat hanger almost as tall and large as him:

“I’m glad we didn’t take the cloaks,” Rogers comments as Zemo hangs his coat next to Rogers’:

“Cloaks and sleeping bags do not work well together,” the German replies and starts walking towards the stairs. Rogers is about to follow him, when he notices eleven short and sturdy leather leashes hung over the coats.

A vivid image comes to mind and Rogers moistens his lips, curses his imagination.

Baron Zemo _did say_ something about leashes, but it feels distant now. Still, Rogers wonders – chastises himself for the sudden curiosity about what it would be like - and slowly glances over his shoulder, to see Zemo waiting for him at the bottom of the spiral staircase:

“Helmut, remember when you told me I should put you on a leash?” Rogers asks in a tight voice, because he wants to be playful about it, entice the German with the same image that came to his mind… yet he just sounded ridiculous. Maybe he should drop it, maybe Zemo will be offended (he’s a _baron_ , afterall!), maybe-

However, with a couple of large strides Zemo is standing in front of Rogers, looking way too amused:

“I do remember that, Steven…” he replies in a low voice with a sharp accent, raising both eyebrows for emphasis. Of course, back then he hadn’t mean it like _that_ , it had been only the metaphorical leash that restrains and humiliates defeated enemies, dragging them along the victor’s Roman triumph.

Yet his defeat turned out to be… a victory. And if Captain America wants to play, Baron Zemo is happy to tag along and fully enjoy his new-found status as a free man.

Mouthing an ‘oh!’, Rogers simply stands there feeling rather awkward, because he hasn’t thought things through. He imagined it for a second, the final product, but Captain America has no idea of _how_ he should get there. Baron Zemo is usually the one who guides him.

And now he’s just there in front of Rogers, looking at him with blown pupils and tilting his head a little, teasing, exposing his neck over the collar of his turtleneck. Reddening a little because of the novelty of it, Rogers takes hold of one of the leashes and thumbs at it, feeling the leather. For a moment, he’s a little ashamed of what he wants to do, feels bad for remembering Zemo’s early annoyance when forcefully tagging along with the Avengers.

Sensing Rogers’ uneasiness, Zemo steps closer and burrows his head on Rogers’ neck, grazing the soft skin with his teeth:

“Wir sind allein,” he whispers, and Rogers kisses the side of his head when he steps back again, patiently waiting for Rogers to go through with it.

Zemo is right: they are alone, no one will know, no one will judge them. They can be at ease in Castle Zemo.

Feeling braver about it, Rogers wraps the leash around Zemo’s neck and fastens the swivel snap to the leather, but doesn’t tighten it much. Holding the loop with a hand, he starts wrapping the loose leash around his hand, pulling Zemo closer until their chests bump – which doesn’t take much, since the leash is short.

Yet another thing to draw.

Zemo leans in for a kiss, but Rogers turns his face away, chuckling when Zemo grunts when his lips touch nothing:

“Wir gehen… hm… uben,” Rogers commands in a confident voice. Zemo mouths a correction, though. “ _Oben_. Wir gehen oben.”

He tugs the leash a little and gives a step back, and Zemo follows him with a look full of promise.

Zemo’s bedroom in the third floor seems abnormally distant, the steps have multiplied and the staircase feels too narrow for the two of them. The wind howls outside, the staircase and corridor are cold and when they finally reach the third floor, Rogers switches off the light and they cover the remaining distance with only the moonlight seeping in through the arrow slits on the wall.

Dogs and cats move out of the way when the two super-soldiers stumble into the antechamber. Rogers is still uncomfortable with their eyes on them, especially Wulfgar’s, looking at the two of them curiously from his spot on the divan, back to its original position in front of the fireplace.

Navigating carefully to avoid paws and tails, Rogers keeps pulling Zemo until they are finally standing next to Zemo’s ridiculously large bed. Rogers is feeling more confident now and he lets go of the leash, lies fully dressed looking expectantly at Zemo and tells him to strip.

There’s a problem, however – Zemo can’t remove his turtleneck with the leash hanging around his neck, so Rogers needs to take the leash off briefly and then put it back.

He’s a lot less gracious when he flops back on the bed, eager, and reaches out for the loop of the leash again when Zemo crawls on top of him:

“Was soll’n wir tun?” Zemo purrs, nuzzling Rogers, who denies him another kiss.

Steve Rogers is feeling rather brave and he starts tracing spiraling patterns on Zemo’s back with his free hand:

“Maybe show me more of your research?” he suggests in a husky voice.

Zemo looks at him with a mysterious smile, narrows his eyes in mock thoughtfulness, then straightens up and is now kneeling between Rogers’ legs. He takes his time undressing Rogers, scratching him softly, alternating fluttering kisses with love-bites.

When Rogers is completely naked, Zemo lies on top of him again, wrapping his arms around him. The familiar warmth and weight and body make Rogers sigh in satisfaction, and he denies yet another kiss when Zemo tries to capture his lips.

But it’s fine: Zemo doesn’t mind kissing Rogers’ jaw, and neck, and collarbone, and chest, and he keeps going down, making Rogers squirm in delight and look at him with curiosity.

Curiosity changes to confusion when Zemo kneels, hunched over Rogers, peppering his waist, hips and abdomen with kisses. It feels good nonetheless, sending little sparks in all directions and making Rogers’ stomach tighten in anticipation for touch.

Rogers is about to ask what Zemo is going to do to him, but the question comes out as a surprised gasp when Zemo licks him and tentatively takes him in his mouth, slowly and rather clumsily. All Rogers can do is take in a sharp breath and buck his hips, dig his fingers into the mattress and clutch to the leash loop.

Baron Zemo wouldn’t trade _this_ _power_ for the type of power he had initially wanted for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love to hear your thoughts! Please let me know what you think of this!


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEHOLD, a new chapter! :D I actually managed to update sooner than expected, yay for me!
> 
> Thank you everyone for your support! It keeps me going!

“Where’s Cap?” Scott eventually asks, after he’s been playing video-games with Hawkeye for almost three hours and still haven’t seen Captain America show up.

Clint is too focused on the game, and it’s Tony, making a sandwich in the kitchen, who answers Scott’s question:

“Spending the weekend in Germany…” Or maybe wasting it. In German museums. Looking at old German stuff.

Ant-Man becomes much more interested in talking than in playing and glances over his shoulder:

“Is he on mission? Can we go too?”

This time Hawkeye listens and bursts out laughing, accidentally getting hit in the game and losing to Ant-Man – which immediately ceases his laughter:

“Sure, if you want to go to museums in Leipzig and hear Zemo brag about the superiority of German culture…” Tony replies and joins his friends on the couch, looking proudly at his magnificent sandwich.

Unfortunately for him, Hawkeye too becomes interested in his snack.

“Cap and Zemo look like they’re friends, now!” Scott proceeds, and indeed Iron Man’s sandwich looks good – would he share a little?

The way that Tony quickly devours his sandwich lets the other two super-heroes know that the sandwich is for Tony Stark alone: if they want food, they’ll have to prepare it:

“Sappy friends,” Hawkeye nods, grimacing at the memory of walking on Zemo and Rogers in the gym while Zemo was massaging Rogers’ shoulders. He then smiles teasingly at Tony. “Steve has a new best friend!”

“That’s not true!! They’re just both from Pre-History! You said yourself they just bonded over old stuff!!” If there’s one thing that pisses off Tony (besides having his inventions stolen) is having his friendship with Captain America questioned.

He grew up hearing his father talking about just how great Captain America was, to the point that Captain America became little Tony’s hero; and when he finally had the chance to meet Rogers in person, he was truly the most righteous person who had ever walked the earth – so much it still annoys Tony sometimes. Point is, Tony wasn’t always a hero, yet still the great Captain America saw something worthy in him, and befriended him, and Tony Stark is the only man in the planet who can say that his childhood hero is his best friend. Rogers is kind and inspiring and makes Tony want to be a better man.

So, his friendship with Rogers means the world to him.

 _And he obviously is not happy with having to share with Baron Zemo, of all people_.

The video-game is forgotten and Ant-Man adopts a thoughtful expression:

“Well… look on the bright side… when Cap gets a girlfriend, he’ll stop hanging out with Zemo!” he reasons, and that makes Hawkeye burst out laughing again:

“Yeah, Tony! Then _you and Zemo_ can bond over having been Cap’s best friend at some point!!”

With ease, Hawkeye dodges a cushion that Tony angrily throws at his face. Scott cackles, only to yelp when another cushion hits him hard.

Tony grunts under his breath that Hawkeye is stupid and Scott is stupid too for laughing.

Worst thing is… _what if Scott is right?_ Tony knows he shouldn’t feel so hurt just because Rogers doesn’t spend that much time with him anymore, but… if Rogers is like that because of Zemo, Tony is doomed to lose his best friend for real when Rogers starts dating!

The thought that _Baron Zemo_ will be abandoned too and will hang around with the Avengers more frequently is equally terrifying.

“Hey Clint, do you know when Zemo’s rehab is over??” Tony asks suddenly, and he was so lost in thoughts he didn’t notice Hawkeye and Ant-Man moving to the kitchen to make themselves sandwiches.

Closing the fridge with a variety of goods cradled in his arms, Hawkeye shrugs:

“I thought he was already an Avenger and would live here with us forever!”

That makes Iron Man groan in agony – he doesn’t want Zemo to stay with them forever! He wouldn’t mind a visit once a week to work on Kang’s tech and talk about science… but _forever is too much time_! Luckily, he’s the leader of the Avengers and he’s got a saying when it comes to recruiting new people!

Yet… he realises he’s being a crappy best friend to Rogers. Tony might not like Zemo… but Rogers does, and clearly the German means a great deal to him. Tony should be happy about Rogers finally having someone who understands his nostalgia, and he should understand that keeping Zemo around would only make Rogers happier. He likes when Rogers is happy – despite whoever makes him happy…

Tony sighs in defeat and sinks on the couch, annoyed.

* * *

 

It’s around lunchtime when Rogers and Zemo teleport back to the Avengers Tower, materialising in the living room precisely when Falcon is carrying a steamy bowl of noodles and almost causing an accident.

Zemo looks very content, Rogers is radiant and has brought German chocolate for everyone.

And Tony is pleasantly surprised when Captain America walks up to him and tells him he wants to show him all these pictures he took in Leipzig.

Little later, Rogers and Tony are in the briefings room, and Tony has sent the pictures in Rogers’ mobile to the large touchscreen and they are going through the pictures together. Tony isn’t interested in museums, but he’s truly enjoying watching all these pictures while listening to Rogers’ enthusiastic explanation about them.

Rogers and Zemo went to some museums, but also wandered around the city – and that was Rogers’ favourite part, because he got to see a lot of nice architecture and beautiful parks.

When Rogers has told everything there was to tell about his weekend in Germany, Tony shares with him what happened with Avengers – there was an unimportant mission on Saturday, Natasha kept monitoring the Red Skull and Strucker, the Hulk put detergent in Thor’s shampoo:

“… and yesterday Scott and Clint said the dumbest thing and I was this close to shoot them off the window with my arc reactor!” Tony concludes, shaking his head. He’s sitting side by side with Rogers on the table and Captain America tilts his head, curious:

“What did they say?”

“That, once you got a girlfriend, Zemo and I would bond over the fact of having been your best friends at some point!” Tony snorts. “Ridiculous, right??”

“Definitely…” Rogers smiles, but it’s his practised smile for diplomatic situations.

Tony’s face becomes serious and he looks at his friend, rests a hand on Rogers’ shoulder:

“Steve… I know I throw tantrums for not spending that much time with you, but… when you meet someone special, I’d love to know her and I promise I won’t be upset for having less time with you.”

That wipes Rogers’ smile off his face, yet he remains composed and shrugs nonchalantly:

“I don’t have time for a girlfriend, Tony…” he states, and that makes Tony roll his eyes:

“Really? But you do have time to go to Germany with Zemo…”

Rogers forces a laugh and slaps Tony’s back playfully:

“Don’t be jealous, Tony! I’ve already gone to a lot of places with you, too!”

“Yeah… But really, Steve… I’d feel sick if you met someone special and didn’t tell me about her just because of my… tantrums…” Tony proceeds. He looks absolutely terrified and it knots Rogers’ stomach. “You’d tell me if you were dating someone, right? I’m not such a bad friend, or am I?”

Rogers feels the colour draining from his face, feels his limbs turning stone, feels himself rooted to that table:

“Stop talking like that, Tony! You’re a great man, you’re my best friend!” And yet, Rogers hasn’t told him about Zemo. Who’s the bad friend, now? It was never Rogers’ intention, but he realises he has been giving Tony the impression that he’s being abandoned and replaced by Zemo… without even knowing _why_.

It’s not right. Rogers never wanted anyone to get hurt – himself included, but… Tony looks so scared… _it is not right_.

Shrinking into his clothes, Captain America looks down at his trainers:

“I’m with someone…” he blurts out. He feels like he’s on a sinking boat: there’s a hole in the hull and the water keeps coming in, despite Rogers’ best attempts at taking it out with a bucket.

Tony is completely taken aback by the sudden – and totally unexpected – confession. For a moment he feels like a horrible, nosy man for having pushed Rogers into telling about his private life: he just wanted to assure Rogers that he could trust him!! Yet, as the words sink in, Tony narrows his eyes in disbelief:

“What?? But… you barely leave the tower... Online dating?? How-?? Who is she??? I want to meet her!!!”

“It’s Helmut…” Rogers’ boat has just crashed on a rock.

And a storm is coming, the waves grow restless, the sky darkens and thunder roars with ground-shaking force.

Tony falls off the table, only to jump to his feet again and stare with wide shocked eyes at Captain America:

“What???” Tony opens his mouth, no sound comes out, he tries again. “ _What Helmut???_ ”

“How many Helmuts do we know, Tony?” Rogers grumbles, cursing himself for being so weak he can’t look up at his best friend.

Tony Stark – genius billionaire philanthropist – can’t understand what is being told to him and he simply stares in confusion at Captain America. Yet slowly, the cogwheels start turning, the pulley is given a new and more resistant rope.

Baron Zemo’s first name is… Helmut.

Captain America and Baron Zemo had grown… close.

Captain America and Baron Zemo spend… a lot of time together.

Captain America has just said he’s with some Helmut… that Tony knows as well.

 _Baron Zemo’s name is Helmut_.

Realisation hits Tony with such force he stumbles backwards and needs to lean on the wall behind him for support, looking at Rogers with a shocked face:

“Steve…!” he mutters in disbelief. “Steve, with billions of available people in the world and you… _you and Zemo_??!!!”

Rogers still can’t muster courage to look up at his friend and he wraps his arms around himself protectively:

“It’s not like I planned to fall in love with him or-“

“ _Fall in love_???” Tony coughs, and can he have a heart attack with the arc reactor in his chest? “Steve, are you mad???” Rogers finally looks up at Tony, but not with his usual fierceness and defiance. He’s scared, he looks small and Tony hates to see him like this.

But this… this is so much worse than bringing in a super-villain to rehab without talking with the rest of the team first!! Tony groans, rubs his face and pinches his nose bridge:

“Steve… did you think on the consequences?” he asks, making an effort to remain calm.

Rogers swallows hard and looks up at the ceiling nervously. Of course he did. He thought about everything – himself, his team, Zemo and his family, the media, the public, S.H.I.E.L.D. … It all kept him from sleeping for nights straight, it stopped him from falling faster:

“I did! Why do you think I didn’t want to tell you?” Rogers replies sheepishly, and Tony just groans again and throws his hands in the air, exasperated:

“Because I’d try to talk some sense to you???”

“You’d have locked Helmut in the Vaults!”

Tony is still for a moment, then clenches his jaw. He looks sternly at Rogers and crosses his arms:

“Bet I’d have…” he hisses, and even though Rogers had already guessed that, it still shocks him and he widens his eyes in horror.

With a sigh, Tony goes to sit next to Rogers again, looking… disappointed. Rogers feels disgusted about himself, feels all the wrongness of what he has with Zemo gnawing at him again. Tony will think poorly of him, now; will think-

“Right, we gotta tell the others…” Tony says, trying to sound as conversational as possible. Rogers shifts uncomfortably next to him:

“I… I’d rather not…”

“Here’s the problem!!” There goes the attempt at being calm and rational, and Tony gesticulates angrily as he speaks. “We are a _team_ , Steve!!! If anyone outside the tower finds out about you and Zemo, it’s not just you who’s going to be in trouble!!”

“Nobody is going to find out!”

“Do I need to remind you about how you hugged on national television??”

Right, Tony’s got a point. The Avengers need to know, it’s only fair, and they all should take measures to avoid _anyone else_ finding out about Rogers and Zemo. Like… not talking about it _ever_. Or not giving them looks. Or not making jokes.

Rogers feels sick, because this is his private life. His intimate life. Something he never had before and that he cherishes dearly. He doesn’t want to not have a private life anymore, he doesn’t want to be looked at with knowing grins everytime he goes into his bedroom, he doesn’t want to have his friends whispering things behind his back everytime he and Zemo stand in the same room.

He doesn’t want his friends to judge him, to think _things_ of him - the type of things Rogers’ society thought of men like him.

“And we’ll have to tell Fury, and Carol, and-“ Tony continues to enumerate, much to Rogers’ horror:

“It’s my private life, Tony!!”

“You don’t get to have one when you’re in super-hero business!! Especially when a world famous super-villain is involved!” Tony argues, running his hand through his hair nervously. “Seriously, what were you thinking???”

“It’s not my fault!!” Rogers reddens in shame. “Nor Helmut’s! It just… it happened!!”

That makes Tony go silent for a moment, and Rogers allows himself to feel hopeful and think that _he_ might have talked some sense to Tony.

Yet Iron Man’s face adopts a very suspicious expression:

“Not Helmut’s fault, uh? What if he’s using you???” Tony reasons, widening his eyes in enlightenment. Because _Captain America_ would never, under normal circumstances, date _Baron Zemo_. There must be an evil agenda behind all this, and maybe hypnosis again – though Tony is pretty sure Rogers would easily be won over by old-fashioned pretty words and chivalric gestures. Baron Zemo is capable of all that: he’s got the education, the age and overall a lot of bad motives to want to manipulate Rogers like that.

Rogers’ turn to groan in dismay:

“He loves me!”

“Or he wants you to think that way!”

Now, that hits a nerve. Rogers frowns, growing from meek and ashamed to proud of what he has and willing to fight tooth and nail for it:

“Why wouldn’t he love me? Don’t I deserve to be loved? Am I not worthy?”

“Of course you do, Steve!! That was never the issue!!” Tony feels like pulling off his carefully groomed beard out of sheer frustration. Steve Rogers deserves the best… _and Baron Zemo is not the best for him!_  “It’s just that Captain America is too good to be with… with some super-villain!”

Rogers rolls his eyes at that.

Of course, what was he even thinking? The whole thing is not about the Avengers wanting to protect Rogers from a heartache or the malice in the world! It’s about keeping unblemished the symbol of Captain America, who stands for everything that’s good and right.

Problem is… Rogers doesn’t want to be just a symbol anymore. He wants to be a _man_ , wants to live in peace with his flaws and be allowed to have needs.

Away from prying eyes…

“We need to have a serious talk with Zemo, find out what he’s up to…” Tony mutters, interrupting Rogers’ train of thought and making him widen his eyes in shock:

“No, you do not! Helmut is my private business and-“

“No, Zemo became _Avengers_ ’ business the moment he hypnotised you the first time!!”

Rogers doesn’t want this.

Can’t Tony understand the more he treats this as _Avengers’ business_ , the more risks there are? Can’t Tony understand he’s hurting and humiliating Rogers, intruding in his life like that? Rogers’ friends mean the world to him, so why can’t his best friend understand he’s not exactly concerned with _Steve Rogers_ , but with _Captain America_?

He’s so much more than a shield – Zemo always reminds him of that.

Tony is still ranting about how naïve Rogers was and how about Zemo is the real issue, but Rogers isn’t listening anymore. He no longer feels welcome in the place he calls home, so he stands up and strides to the door, but Tony grabs one of his arms and he stops, glances over his shoulder.

Iron Man is not amused and he tilts his head questioningly. Rogers clenches his jaw:

“I’m leaving. I don’t want to be in a place where I can’t be myself in peace and quiet.”

“You’ve not been yourself since you became friends with Zemo! This is not the Steve I know!”

“And who’re you to tell _me_ who I am??”

The words linger in the silence that follows, bitter. They glower at each other, until Rogers yanks his arm free from Tony’s grip and strides out of the briefings room and into the lift.

In the living quarters, Falcon is making himself tea and the Hulk and Thor watch in delight as Clint gets his arse handed to him by Natasha, in the video game they’re playing. Rogers is as discreet as possible as he crosses the living room, greeting Falcon and praising Natasha’s gaming skills.

Yet the moment he’s in the bedrooms corridor, he hurries towards his bedroom, where he finds Zemo reading a book. The German looks up at him and smiles:

“I unpacked your bag too, Steven,” he announces and closes the book, ready to welcome Rogers in his arms. However, the smile dies and he frowns at Rogers’ serious face. “Steven?”

* * *

 

Zemo’s dogs come barking from the main building the moment Zemo and Rogers teleport in the main bailey. It’s getting dark, and the two super-soldiers walk inside with the dogs running in circles around them.

The butler is waiting for them, expecting for instructions to take their backpacks upstairs, commenting it’s a nice surprise that Baron Zemo and Captain Rogers are back so soon. He’s even more surprised when Zemo tells him that they are going to stay. Then Zemo dismisses the butler, and followed by his dogs and Rogers, he makes his way upstairs.

In his best dreams, Baron Zemo had thought about this: returning home with Rogers by his side, not just to spend the weekend, but to _stay_. Of course, he had not thought they would arrive to hide from the Avengers.

From Iron Man, to be more precise, and his knowledge and opinions about Zemo and Rogers. Which Zemo _is not pleased about_ , because any intelligent creature can see excellent blackmail material here. Not to mention how big of a setback this is regarding Hydra! Right when Baron Zemo was almost done hypnotising Strucker and Schmidt…! His only consolation is that, despite having been there with him to watch, Black Widow cannot do as good as him and he can continue his work from his lab in the keep…

All things considered, however, there is more to gain than to lose: Steve Rogers had packed up his few belongings… but had left his Captain America suit and shield behind. In fact, it had been _Rogers_ asking Zemo to return to Germany, and that had made Zemo less upset about Iron Man knowing about them.

Baron Zemo has finally won. His plan worked, the Avengers have been destroyed with Captain America’s departure. The German has made something no other super-villain ever made. Yet Zemo isn’t concerned about this any longer, and though he appreciates that Rogers has moved in with him, deep down he knows Rogers will regret leaving his friends out of impulse (Baron Zemo is a specialist in being hot-headed like that, remember?).

With no time to lose, Zemo has two important tasks at hand: to continue to hypnotise Strucker and the Red Skull into handing over Hydra, and to convince Rogers he can be happier here than what he was at the Avengers Tower – which is going to be the real challenge.

By the way Rogers has been silent while they unpack and organise their clothes in Zemo’s wardrobe, the German guesses Rogers is finally cooling down.

With a sigh, Zemo rests a hand over Rogers’ shoulder, who keeps moving his shirts from his backpack to a shelf inside the wardrobe:

“I am not upset about you telling Stark,” he says quietly. Think of it, and Iron Man’s face upon discovering the precious _Captain America_ is with Baron Zemo must have been hilarious.

Rogers’ shoulders slump and he finally stops what he’s doing to look at Zemo, apologetic:

“I messed up…” he mutters, but feels relieved when the German pulls him closer and nuzzles at him:

“Fear not, Steven: we shall triumph together,” Zemo assures him, and for the time being, it’s enough to put an end at Rogers’ worries and make him smile.

* * *

 

For a couple of days, Rogers does great at having a normal life: he helps taking care of the dogs and horses, he learns how to milk cows and goats, he picks up eggs, he trains Zemo’s guards, he paints in what used to be Hilda’s studio and even starts learning German.

Yet the lack of saving the world starts to get to him, and not having dangers to face, enemies to defeat and innocents to save is revealing to be… stressful. He forces himself to keep away from the TV and Internet to watch the news, and more importantly… to not turn on his mobile: he doesn’t want to know if he has texts or voice-mails from the Avengers demanding to know where he is, blaming him for his feelings for Zemo, dismissing him from the team… or calling because they need help. Besides, if the Avengers are looking for him, if he turns on his mobile the GPS will activate.

So Rogers forces himself to go through his new routine: wake up with Zemo; have some time for themselves; shower; breakfast; help with the animals because he enjoys doing so and paint and read while Zemo is working in the lab, or dealing with estate management in the office; ride on horseback with Zemo once he’s done; dinner; have a cultural evening listening to opera and playing chess/playing with the cats/learning German; go to sleep with Zemo.

Rogers really wants it to work, but just a few days into this new life and everything becomes… repetitive. He still enjoys dealing with the animals, but he no longer has inspiration to draw when he sits at the window and he doesn’t feel like painting his works; reading is becoming boring and the operas are getting quite annoying; German declensions are the work of the devil and he’s slowly turning into a bad loser at chess.

More and more frequently, Rogers catches himself wondering if the Avengers are alright, if they’re worried by his sudden and unplanned departure, or if they’re glad they got rid of a… lesser and corrupted member. Sparing brief thoughts at Tony, Rogers asks himself if there was a winner or a loser in that argument… or if they both lost. The brief thoughts increase gradually, and eventually Rogers catches himself wishing things had been different, that there had been a better timing and a better choice of words.

And Baron Zemo, who was so happily enjoying this new and tranquil life at home with his beloved partner, notices that Rogers is starting to be less enthusiastic about living in Germany. This won’t do. Zemo has gone through too much trouble and he deserves the prize for his perseverance: _fulfilling his destiny of greatness,_ which includes, besides power and the control of Hydra and his army of super-soldiers, a successful love-life… that depends of Rogers’ happiness.

And right now, Rogers is… not completely happy.

Zemo understands. He knows what it’s like to have to adapt to new routines, to be away from home and loved ones, to have nothing to spur his superior intellect and challenge him to perfect himself.

That’s why he’ll provide Rogers with a professional function – that will make Rogers feel useful and give him a sense of purpose, will make him happy:

“I am going to put online again my hypnotherapy office’s site,” Zemo announces that morning, having breakfast with Rogers. “I need you to monitor it, because appointments can be scheduled online, then all you need to do is to note them down and organise them for me.”

Rogers perks up at that, because it doesn’t even require an advanced knowledge of the German language. So, for a week or two, he’s entertained being Zemo’s secretary and going with him to Leipzig to deal with paperwork at the office while Zemo is busy with patients.

Yet… that too becomes boring. And rather humiliating, because Rogers needs to have a dictionary nearby when it comes to the paperwork at the office.

Rogers’ increasing disappointment regarding this new life starts showing when Zemo pulls him close and kisses him and nibbles at him, muttering promises and pretty things, and only Rogers’ body reacts. Rogers, however, isn’t in the mood for it, and it makes him feel bad for not wanting Zemo that frequently.

For the first few days, the German is understanding, doesn’t mind, massages Rogers’ back instead while talking about great plans for their future. But as the days drag by, Rogers’ constant refusal starts to be… frustrating.

Especially because it’s not just about their intimacy anymore: Rogers doesn’t want to ride on horseback with Zemo, doesn’t want to play chess with him, doesn’t want to listen to opera, doesn’t want to go out. He merely helps with the animals, then spends the rest of time looking out the window in the living room with the piano.

* * *

 

“Strucker and Schmidt are making the preparations to surrender and hand over the control of Hydra to me, as we speak!” Zemo shares one night, after dinner. He’s sitting at the window across Rogers, their legs tangled and one of the European Tabbies purring happily on Rogers’ lap.

Rogers frowns, thoughtful:

“S.H.I.E.L.D. might want to intervene…” And that probably will bring along the Avengers, and Rogers – despite missing them dearly and regretting the way he left – doesn’t feel ready to face them just yet. Or ever again. Who knows if they won’t bring up his relationship with Zemo in front of everyone and expose them just like that?? Or what if they arrest Zemo??

“I shall handle that,” Zemo grunts, and he was expecting a bit more enthusiasm from Rogers. “You will finally be my general!”

Rogers smiles a little at that, but doesn’t hear as Zemo goes on and on about his super-soldier program to create an army that Rogers is going to train into being the pinnacle of super-heroes.

Being Zemo’s general at Hydra will bring back some of the old routine Rogers is so used to. Better, now that he thinks of it in detail: it will bring back Rogers’ entire purpose of being.

Because… had it not been for the super-soldier program in the war, Rogers wouldn’t be here. He would have died young, of illness, and would have never gotten to fulfil his dreams of helping those in need and make a difference in the world. Steve Rogers was reborn as Captain America to be… what he’s not being right now.

“Steven, do you hear me?” Zemo asks, aggrieved, having noticed Rogers isn’t paying attention to his plans of glory. Plans in which Rogers stars, as well.

Rogers sighs and rubs his temples:

“Sorry, I was… thinking…”

“I suppose you have been thinking a lot, lately…” Zemo accuses and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I would like you to share your mind with me.”

“It’s nothing, Helmut…”

“Is it so?” The bitterness in Zemo’s voice makes Rogers sigh in annoyance. He looks down at the happy cat on his lap:

“I’m here, right Helmut? That’s the matter.”

“Well, lately is has not looked like you are here at all…” Zemo narrows his eyes. “You would rather not be here…!”

Rogers doesn’t immediately reply, thinking on a way to put into words that he likes being at Castle Zemo, he just wishes he had left the Avengers Tower differently and that… there were super-hero things for him to do. The time he takes to think this through and start formulating an answer, however, is an expectant silence that Baron Zemo takes as a confirmation that Rogers regrets having moved in to Castle Zemo.

Turns out that Zemo hasn’t won, that Rogers isn’t _happy_. That hurts, because Zemo (eventually) did his best to adapt to Rogers’ life and the super-hero routine… and he actually learned to like it. Annoying Avengers and all. Having failed to make Rogers enjoy _this_ life is extremely painful, and the fact that Rogers has given up on his half of the effort is rather infuriating.

Without a word, Zemo untangles their legs, jumps to his feet and leaves the living room with large strides. Wulfgar follows him immediately, and one by one the other dogs leave as well.

Until only Rogers, the cat on his lap and the Great Dane remain in the living room. Rogers stays at the window for a long time, upset with Zemo’s accusation at how Rogers would rather be somewhere else. He doesn’t feel like arguing – he doesn’t feel like doing anything at all! – and having Zemo massacring his patience like that gives Rogers the impression that there’s nowhere safe for him, nowhere he can be at peace and sort out things.

Later in the night, when he walks in the bedroom, Zemo is already asleep, lying on his side and curled in the middle of the bed. He’s wearing a satin pyjama, something Rogers interprets as the German not wanting to be touched. Which suits Rogers just fine, and he dresses his own pyjama as well, climbs to the bed, snakes between dogs and cats until he finds a vacant spot in that ridiculously huge bed and lies down.

The next morning, when Rogers wakes up, Zemo is already gone. All the cats and dogs are still in the bed, except for Wulfgar. When Rogers goes down for breakfast, the table is set only for him. This is definitely not what Rogers had in mind when he asked Zemo for them to return to Germany, and eating alone Rogers can feel a bit angry and blame Zemo for making things worse.

Helping out with the animals makes his mind go blissfully blank for a while – until Zemo’s black horse almost succeeds at biting him. That makes Rogers feel aggrieved again… and suddenly, very lonely. So, he puts the halter and lead rope on his own horse and takes it out, intending to go for a walk around the estate with someone that won’t attack him for being… lost. He complains to Hauptmann about his various misfortunes, the two of them walking leisurely across the pastures, and Rogers slowly realises that, despite all the crap that happened the past weeks… Zemo was always there to look after him.

Zemo allowed Rogers to stay in the castle and fitted him amongst its inhabitants.

Zemo was always attentive, immediately integrating Rogers in his life.

Zemo finally found a way to secure Hydra’s control and gave Rogers a place and purpose in it.

In a world where most of Rogers’ guidelines have been significantly altered, where the values and worth he grew up with are different, he’s jeopardizing something he should not. People with super-powers are not uncommon anymore, but there’s only one man that shares so much of Rogers’ history.

* * *

 

In a few days, the Red Skull and Strucker will meet Zemo in Berlin to formally hand over the command of Hydra to him. Then, they will surrender to S.H.I.E.L.D., and by the time the super-heroes realise who’s in command of Hydra, Baron Zemo will already have so much power that he can be generous and allow S.H.I.E.L.D. to keep the bases its agents secured when Strucker first escaped the Vaults.

Then there will only be one loose end – Zola, but Zemo can deal with him later.

The German pauses and reads the victory speech he’s been typing in his laptop – just a little something to cheer up the troops and make them understand they have no other option but to be loyal to _him_.

And to Rogers.

Speaking of which, is peeking at the door. Wulfgar, sprawled on the round carpet in front of Zemo’s desk, salutes Rogers with a lazy bark. Zemo, however, frowns and turns his attention back to his speech.

With a sigh, Rogers walks in the office. He still ignores the banners and Heinrich’s picture, and circles the desk to stand next to Zemo, who keeps typing on the laptop. The chair he’s sitting on is even bigger and more throne-like than the one at the desk in his sleeping chamber and has the Zemo crest carved on it.

“Can we talk?” Rogers asks quietly.

Zemo wants to be petty and ignore him, give Rogers a taste of his own medicine. Instead, he stops writing and turns his head to look at Rogers, still frowning – and there’s a little pout on his lips.

“I’m sorry, Helmut… You’ve been so good to me, you’re always here… I just…” Rogers bites his lower lip. “… I was never someone besides Captain America, I feel a bit lost…”

The German hums, gives Rogers’ words a thought. He’s still pouting when he shuts down his laptop to give Rogers his full attention:

“You do not need to feel lost…” he grunts, aggrieved. Still, it’s nice that Rogers has come up here to apologise. And it’s understandable that, having born a peasant, Rogers is not used to greatness and feels lost in it, now that he’s surrounded by it. “You are _my_ Steven, secretary, groomer of horses, feeder of chickens and general of Hydra.”

That makes Rogers laugh full-heartedly and it lifts a weight off his shoulders: it feels wonderful to hear his roles at Castle Zemo… and to hear again that possessiveness.

Zemo always gives Rogers a sense of belonging, and Rogers bends down to kiss him, thankful and apologetic, but it grows to longing and needing. Rogers ends up straddling Zemo and they clutch to each other – the speech is going to have to wait. With a flushed face, Rogers stands up, pulls Zemo by the wrist and they sprint down the keep, across the bailies, into the main building, up the stairs and into Zemo’s bedroom.

It feels like they have been years apart. They are afraid of letting go and hold on tightly to each other.

“I wish we could be _closer_ …” Rogers mutters later, against Zemo’s neck. He sighs in satisfaction, plants another kiss on an already reddened spot:

“My research says we could,” Zemo replies cautiously. “I am not sure if you will like it, though…”

* * *

 

Rogers figures he can still be a super-hero and do super-hero stuff. He just has a different type of citizens to take are of: the dogs need him to pour their food on their bowls, and to distribute them their daily portion of meat – consequently sparing old Emilie and skinny Bergmann from dealing with lots (and some of them huge) excited dogs; the chickens also need Rogers to give them their food and collect the eggs – and watch out for adventurous chicks escaping the coop to venture outside; the cows and goats need Rogers to milk them – which in turn gives the caretaker more time to go home in the village and spend time with his family; the guards benefit greatly from Rogers’ training – and it saves them from Zemo’s harshness. Steve Rogers is content with his new life, and he makes sure he shows it to Zemo.

Until finally the great day arrives: Baron Zemo is gaining full control of Hydra, something his father never achieved. He can only hope S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Avengers won’t interfere, because it would be a shame to taint such a glorious day with a useless fight to secure something that has always belonged to him.

Not to mention how that would affect Rogers, who’s been so happy about being a regular citizen. Heads will roll if Rogers’ peace of mind is disturbed.

In his costume, Zemo gets in his Mercedes jeep – it has tinted windows, perfect to conceal his identity while travelling like a normal person. Rogers, dressed in black and covered in tactical gear from Zemo’s personal guard, sits on the passenger seat and looks around:

“I’m still waiting for this jeep to turn into a jet,” he shares, amused. “Or to find a secret hangar under the fruit garden.”

Of course, Baron Zemo had tried to build a hangar underground, but the mechanisms to open and close the gate and elevate the jet would have interfered with the roots of his much-prized fruit trees. Besides, the traces on the surface would be easily captured by any decent satellite, and that would give away that Zemo’s castle is not merely a testament of his importance and wealth.

For the sake of secrecy, while in Germany Baron Zemo transports himself like a regular person.

“Today is going into the chronicles of the Zemo lineage!” Zemo announces proudly as he starts the engine. He looks at Rogers, smiling fondly at him. “And soon, you will no longer be a captain, but a general.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opinions, anyone?


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LO AND BEHOLD, an update!! :'D Finally, this took longer than expected!  
> Thank you everyone for your support, it kept me cheered up through papers and essays. :')
> 
> Now... only two more chapters to go!

The Avengers are gathered in the living room, watching the TV with no interest.

It has been weeks since Rogers and Zemo left to Germany. S.H.I.E.L.D. had demanded to know their whereabouts a few days ago, when the Red Skull and Baron Strucker walked up to the Vaults and surrendered on their own free will. Black Widow had immediately assured S.H.I.E.L.D. that Rogers and Zemo were in Germany dealing with Hydra, and her cover-up had proved right just hours after, when a recruitment video started circulating online.

The video was slightly disturbing: it started with Zemo making a grand speech about honour and bravery and the new values of Hydra, and continued with Rogers recruiting everyone who would like to change the world for better. Zemo remained himself, pink mask and sword and oozing arrogance – especially now that he had what he had wanted for so long; Rogers, however, was different.

He no longer looked like Captain America. Rogers was clad in a black tactical uniform and was entitled as _General_ Rogers. He looked good, captivating and motivating, sharing his transformation from hapless ill youth to a world-changing super-soldier and incentivising all who wanted to do good but didn’t have the means for it.

Rogers looked… like he didn’t miss the Avengers. Like he had found another, better home.

The press had gone insane and Nick Fury had personally materialised in the Avengers Tower demanding to know what the hell was going on, and once more Black Widow assured him everything was under control, that Rogers knew what he was doing, that _the Avengers_ trusted Zemo’s new Hydra, that this entire mess had actually been thoroughly planned – Iron Man had given the press the same excuse, yet while Fury had been grudgingly appeased (but still wanted proof and Rogers would have to meet him first thing once he was back from Germany), the press had just made more questions and had pretty much demanded a trial by fire for Captain America.

A Valentines commercial starts on the TV. The Hulk grunts and looks around the living room, expecting seasonal decorations to magically show up.

“Do you think Cap and Zemo will celebrate Valentines?” Hawkeye asks eventually, looking annoyedly at Thor and Black Widow, like they’re the ones to blame for Rogers’ and Zemo’s departure:

“That’s really none of our business…” Natasha remarks dryly, narrowing her eyes at Hawkeye, then casting a side-look at Tony. “It never was…”

“That won’t make any of us feel better, and it won’t make them come back…” Tony replies, staring at a point somewhere over his trainers:

“Nat’s right, though…” Sam mutters from his spot on the couch, utterly bored. Thor, who’s sitting next to Natasha, looks around at the Avengers gathered in the living room:

“We should try to contact them!” he suggests, widening his eyes like he just had the most brilliant idea. Tony rolls his eyes:

“Steve’s phone is off and neither of them took the earpieces…” He had tried to call Steve the moment F.R.I.D.A.Y. had confessed to him she had watched Zemo and Rogers teleport away and hadn’t done anything to stop it – the AI, too, hadn’t liked the way Tony had reacted to Rogers’ sheepish confession:

“Zemo’s phone doesn’t have the GPS on and he’s not taking my calls…” Hawkeye says, reaching out for the remote and zapping furiously, trying to find an add-free channel to watch. “Nor the Hulk’s… and not even yours, Thor…”

The Asgardian, however, isn’t one to shy away because of ignored phone-calls. His face assumes a determined expression and he slams his closed fist on the arm of the couch, breaking it:

“It has been weeks! I am sure Steve and Helmut are calmer now… and so are you, Tony. I say we travel to Asgard and request Heimdal to see where-“

“I don’t think Zemo and Steve would be happy if we magically appeared in their…” Natasha hesitates: _home_? no, Steve’s home is in the Avengers Tower; _lair_? no, only bad guys have lairs, and Steve Rogers is not a bad guy (and even Baron Zemo seems to have been… successfully rehabilitated into goodness). “…place…”

“Then how are we going to contact them??? None of them has a Facebook and I don’t know Zemo’s Skype address!” Hawkeye complains, but he seems to perk up at the perspective of actually doing something other than accepting his friends’ absence.

Suggestions of all sorts are made: magical Asgardian teleportation, old-school super-spy invasion, request the German government for Zemo’s address in the name of global security, try to find one of Zemo’s cousins in the Internet and beg them to intervene. The discussion is lively, with arguments and pros and cons flying back and forth, and for a moment the Avengers are themselves again, briefing about an upcoming mission of great importance.

This all Iron Man watches in silence.

Natasha is right: Rogers’ private life is none of the Avengers’ – Tony Stark’s – business.

Thor is right: Rogers and Zemo have been gone for too long and it’s time to make amends.

Clint, the Hulk and Sam are right too, even though they never said it through actual words: if Rogers is happy, then let him be.

Tony straightens up on his spot on the couch and clears his throat:

“Ok guys: what do we know about Zemo’s place?” he asks, raising his voice above the ruckus and bringing a moment of surprised silence into the living room. Hawkeye almost bounces on his seat:

“It’s a castle in Leipzig!”

“A medieval castle!” Thor helps. “A large estate!”

“And it’s near this little village the first Zemo defended from a horde of invading Slavs!!!” Hawkeye adds, widening his eyes. “Let’s use a satellite and watch all castles in Leipzig and the one that looks like a bad guy’s lair, that’s Zemo Castle!!”

* * *

 

Turns out that castles can look suspiciously harmless when seen from space.

So, with no technology to aid them, it’s time to channel Captain America’s teachings on how to survive the ancient way. Which means, disguising themselves as tourists, take a flight to Leipzig, rent a mini-van and drive from castle to castle in the area of Leipzig in search of Captain America and Baron Zemo. This will keep them as low-profile, castle-loving tourists… and hopefully make them look completely harmless yet determined to find Rogers.

The weather is grey and cold; there’s no speed-limit in the highways, which it’s both marvellous and terrifying; signs need constant translation; no driving in historical centres; it has just been two days in Leipzig and Tony Stark is done with German food.

From all the castles they visited, none was the one they are looking for. Their last hope is a castle near a village south from Leipzig. When they exit the highway and drive towards the village, they can already see the dark shape of a castle emerging from the fog, looming in the distance on a small hill:

“It gives me chills. No castle has given me chills before. Gotta be that one!!” Hawkeye comments, sitting on one of the backseats and pleadingly stretching his hand between the driver’s seat – Tony’s – and the passenger’s – Natasha’s. “Nat, do you have more crackers?”

“Yep, mine…” she replies nonchalantly, watching the landscape with interest. “This is… very rural. I never pictured Zemo living in the middle of nowhere.”

“C’mon, Bruce ate mine!!!!” Hawkeye complains. Next to him, Bruce Banner rolls his eyes. On the other seat, Falcon is filming the landscape with his mobile:

“This is kinda pretty, fog and all!”

“I wish for crackers, too!” Thor cries, alone with non-edible luggage on the last row of backseats.

“It’s not even lunch time, yet!!” Tony grunts, driving the mini-van towards the secondary road that goes around the village. “We’re lunching at McDonald’s, today!”

“No way, we’re in for the whole touristic experience!!” Clint teases. “We’re gonna find a nice local restaurant and indulge in yet more sausage, potatoes and cabbage!”

“We need to talk to Steve and Zemo, first…” Natasha cuts dryly. Visiting the area would have been much more enjoyable if only they knew exactly where to go… and if it were under different circumstances.

Like Captain America having peacefully moved out the Avengers Tower and having invited his friends to come over for vacation so that everyone could have a great time, for example…

Leaving the village behind, the Avengers find themselves in a small rural road. They would like to see the fields on each side of the road, but there’s too much fog. The road goes up softly, towards the castle, and as they approach, they can see the shape of a man standing in the distance, holding a flashlight and guarding a large gate. The Avengers can also see walls on each side of the road, starting on the gate and disappearing into the fog.

“Is that a guard? That’s it, we found Castle Zemo!” Hawkeye chants victoriously from the backseat, momently forgotten about his hunger. Tony frowns and slows down:

“I just hope we’re not walking into a trap…” he mutters. The guard raises a hand:

“Halt!” he shouts, and more guards join him, appearing from a small door on the gate. The Avengers are close enough to spot guns on the guards, but most importantly, they can see the Zemo coat-of-arms on the guards’ bullet-proof vests.

* * *

 

Baron Zemo is going through paperwork in his office when he hears his dogs barking excitedly outside. Which is normal, and he keeps focused in the task at hand.

What isn’t normal is how Wulfgar, lying next to his chair, starts growling, stands up and trots to the middle of the office, where it stands menacingly, staring intensely at the door. That makes Zemo frown and cross his arms over his desk:

“Wulfgar?” he calls tentatively, but the dog stands still, growling. More barking comes from the stairs, and the sound of steps, and soon Zemo’s office is invaded by barking and growling dogs, escorting a few of Zemo’s guards and the Avengers.

If Baron Zemo wasn’t sitting on his opulent throne-like chair, he would have fallen flat on his butt. He looks with contemplative dismay at the Avengers, lined up inside a protective square of guards, surrounded by menacing dogs. The chief guard seems a bit lost, unsure of what to do, and Zemo sighs in defeat and stands up from his chair:

“Raus!” he commands the dogs. The smaller ones leave, but the German Shepherd, the Rottweilers and the Great Dane stand by, baring their teeth at the Avengers. With a gesture of his hand, Zemo dismisses the guards, who leave the office without a word.

The Avengers look around in discomfort during the moment of awkward silence that follows. They are finally in Castle Zemo… and are rather relieved that _apparently_ this place is an actual home, and not a lair (despite the armed guards, suspicious banners and Heinrich Zemo’s framed picture). Zemo crosses his arms in front of his chest, annoyed:

“How did you find me?” he asks:

“The guards with Zemo-stickers made it easy…” Clint replies, and it brings a twinge of longing to the German. He studies the group attentively: the Avengers are dressed in civilian clothes, the Hulk has… de-hulked… and apparently they don’t bring weapons. Tony Stark looks like he swallowed a spoonful of something particularly bitter, Natasha is still studying her surroundings, Banner and Sam seem a bit worried about the dogs, Clint is trying not to smile – which results in an awkward grimace – and Thor is barely holding himself from trapping Zemo in a brotherly embrace.

Zemo sighs again:

“I suppose you are here for Steven,” he states, looking directly at Iron Man, who nods. Zemo tilts his head and purses his lips.

Rogers is happy, now. He’s satisfied with his new life, he’s enthusiastic about being Zemo’s general in Hydra. He’s been making training programs and sorting out applications. If he sees the Avengers, this bliss Baron Zemo worked so hard to obtain will pretty much disappear, because Rogers will have a moment of sudden realisation and conclude that he misses his friends and former team-mates dearly, and will probably not hesitate in exchanging his position as general to go back to… _Captain America_.

Baron Zemo can’t allow that.

But Rogers would like to see his friends.

Zemo curses under his breath and reaches out for the folded cloak on his desk:

“I cannot guarantee you Steven will want to talk to you…” he says – hopes – as he drapes the cloak around his shoulders and leaves the office, with the growling dogs following close but glancing behind at the Avengers.

Reluctantly at first, the group of super-heroes follows Zemo downstairs and out of the keep, to the lower bailey. The other dogs come running from near the coops, barking and growling and baring their teeth:

“Ignore them,” Zemo instructs the Avengers, leading them across the lower bailey while wrapping himself on his cloak. He walks confidently despite the thick fog and the eleven dogs running in circles around them in a somewhat synchronized turmoil. The Avengers follow carefully, afraid of stumbling on a dog or tripping in irregularities of the terrain.

Zemo leads them outside the castle walls, through the garden and down the pastures, towards the stables and the indoor ring. The door to the ring is open, and the beating of hooves can be heard outside. The dogs disperse towards the various pastures, expect for Wulfgar, that trots ahead of Zemo and sits obediently by the door.

Walking in after Zemo, the Avengers find themselves in a sumptuous ring, large, heated, with round windows high on the walls, a mirror at the head of the arena, and a large chandelier on the ceiling. There’s a direct passage from the ring to the stables through a big lancet-arch door, but no neighing to be heard: the horses are outside, in the pasture.

Right in the middle of the ring stands Rogers, dressed in proper riding clothes and leading a majestic light grey horse in a circle. He’s very committed to the task at hand, completely oblivious to the group gathering by the door. The horse doesn’t seem particularly pleased about trotting in a circle around Rogers, with a lead rope between it and darting away at the speed it wants.

With a sigh, Zemo walks in the ring, towards Rogers. The Avengers watch expectantly as Rogers notices the approaching German, halts the horse and smiles. He irradiates happiness, and to the Avengers – to Tony – it feels like they haven’t seen their friend in an eternity… and that they have never seen him truly happy.

Rogers’ smile drops as Zemo tells him he has visits, and looking over Zemo’s shoulder, finally noticing the Avengers, Rogers’ face turns into a mask of stone. Zemo walks away from him and Rogers resumes to leading the horse.

“Steven says he is busy,” Zemo informs as he joins the Avengers outside the ring. The super-heroes collectively slouch their shoulders, but the German simply shrugs and walks past them. “But he is also very stubborn…”

Tony looks like he was drowning and was miraculously pulled out of the water. He watches Zemo wrap himself in his cloak and walk outside, then looks at Rogers, doing his best to focus on the horse and not look at the Avengers. Puffing his chest as an act of determination, Tony gets in the ring and walks directly to Rogers.

The others exchange looks and join Zemo outside.

Iron Man is determination incarnate as he strides across the ring (clumsily fights against the sand for a dignified walk) towards Rogers who, in turn, is stubbornness personified as he keeps leading the horse, avoiding at all costs to acknowledge Tony’s presence. Once Tony is too close to the horse, he stops, crosses his hands behind his back, and clears his throat:

“Steve?” he calls. Tony wanted to sound confident, like when he briefs the team; he ends up sounding lost and scared.

The majestic horse, trotting in a wide circle, slows down to a walk. Tony sees that Rogers is finally looking at him while collecting the lead rope, making the horse approach him gradually. Rogers’ mask of stone is crumbling, though he clings to an offended grimace:

“What do you want?” he asks. His horse stops in front of him and he pats its head in desperate need for reassurance. Steve Rogers did not expect to have the Avengers – to have _Iron Man_ – showing up in Germany to further nag him. But again, these are the Avengers – _this is Tony Stark_ – and of course they would not let him walk away that easily. He’s afraid of what Tony has to add to their argument and at how much he misses his friends.

Tony sighs in defeat and, now that the horse isn’t trotting in a circle around Rogers, he approaches the super-soldier just a bit more. He looks at the light grey horse, at how Rogers’ fingers are curling around the horse’s long forelock:

“That’s the horse Zemo gave you?” It’s a stupid question, because Rogers had already showed him a picture. In real life, however, Tony can truly understand just how beautiful the horse is – and, by the way Rogers interacts with it, that the horse is a cherished gift. “It’s big.”

It chips the ice, making Rogers chuckle a little:

“Yeah, he is…” Rogers agrees, at a loss of what to say and feeling gradually uncomfortable in his skin.

Tony knows about him and Zemo.

_Tony is standing right there looking at him._

_Tony probably saw the way Rogers looked at Zemo the moment the German walked up to him and is disgusted by Rogers’ feelings towards Baron Zemo._

Clearing his throat, Rogers loosens a bit the lead rope and clicks his tongue, commanding the horse to walk in a circle again. As the horse starts to move, Tony hurriedly steps back again and looks expectantly at the horse.

But the horse is merely walking in a circle, and though it’s a bit too big for Tony’s liking, it doesn’t seem like a menace. Also, Rogers doesn’t look like he’s going to command the horse to attack Iron Man, and Tony clears his throat again:

“I’m sorry, Steve…” he mutters, but it’s loud enough for Rogers to hear. Tony Stark isn’t very keen on recognising he did something wrong, leave alone apologise for it – but Rogers is his best friend, and Tony misses him, and things should not have turned out like this. He doesn’t mind taking the first step towards reconciliation, and to be honest… Tony doesn’t even care anymore if Captain America returns to the Avengers or pursues his new career of general at Hydra: right now, all Tony wants is to have his best friend back.

Rogers halts the horse again and looks at Tony with wide eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but words don’t come out. And what is he supposed to say? That he wasn’t expecting Tony to apologise? That he thought they wouldn’t actually talk about that argument ever again? That Tony should be further condemning Rogers’ relationship with Zemo?

“I’m sorry, Tony,” The words escape him on their own free will, but maybe he shouldn’t be taken aback at how his heart has a quicker reasoning that his brain. The Lipizzaner takes the chance to sniff at the sand as Rogers takes a tentative step towards Iron Man. “I… I shouldn’t have left like that.”

“I shouldn’t have acted the way I did…” Tony shrugs, looking from Rogers to the horse, then back to Rogers. A moment of expectant silence follows, until Tony looks down and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “And Steve… if you’re happy… then I’m happy too.”

The next thing Iron Man knows, he’s trapped in Rogers’ embrace and has been effortlessly lifted from the ground. Rogers’ horse seizes the opportunity to kneel and roll happily on the sand.

* * *

 

Outside the ring is cold and still foggy. The Avengers realise Zemo hasn’t dramatically walked away – instead, he’s leaning on the nearby fence and petting a black horse, and the Avengers walk up to him. His faithful German Shepherd sits next to him and looks attentively at the approaching super-heroes. The other dogs are nowhere to be seen, but their barks tell they’re close enough to come to rescue their master and shred the invaders to pieces.

Thor is barely keeping himself from capturing Zemo in a brotherly embrace, but it’s Hawkeye who decides to break the ice first, the moment the group mimics Zemo and leans on the fence to watch the horses through the fog:

“You could have told us, Zemo…” Hawkeye says. It’s a mere statement, devoid of accusation, mockery or smugness. There’s not even the betrayal of not having been trusted with an important fact.

Baron Zemo sighs, and for a moment he looks tired as he’s so focused on petting his horse’s head, staring it in the eyes:

“It’s not that easy, Barton…” he replies with a hint of annoyance: be it because Hawkeye is too dumb to realise the complexity of the situation or because Zemo would have liked to trust a friend:

“We wouldn’t have judged you and Steve!” Hawkeye proceeds, and that brings a bitter smile to Zemo’s lips. He’s still focused on his horse:

“Stark would. In fact, he _did_ …”

“Sock-Face one, Hawkeye zero…” Banner mutters loud enough for all to hear, and this time it makes Zemo smile genuinely and finally look away from his horse and to the Avengers. He’s at a loss of what to say, but Thor comes to the rescue as he jumps at him and traps him in a brotherly embrace despite Wulfgar’s threatening growling and the attempts from Zemo’s black horse at biting. But the dog doesn’t look like it will attack for real and the horse can’t reach Thor with its teeth, so Banner approaches Thor and Zemo to give his own contribution to the hug.

Hawkeye reluctantly joins them, then Falcon. Natasha simply finds a vacant spot on Zemo’s shoulder to pat him:

“We missed you and the Captain!” Thor’s booming voice, so close, has Zemo’s brain rattling inside his cranium. The German’s complaint his muffled, as he stands sandwiched among the super-heroes.

Only when the other dogs appear from the fog to help Wulfgar protect Zemo, do the Avengers release the German and step back.

Baron Zemo fakes annoyance as he straightens his cloak and combs his hair with his fingers. He dismisses the dogs with a gesture of his hand, his lips pursed in a stubborn attempt at masking a radiant smile.

 _The Avengers, his friends, have missed him_. They are here for Rogers, but also for Zemo. They aren’t judging, or trying to separate Rogers from him. They were escorted by Zemo’s guards, unextraordinary human beings, and endured threatening dogs for the sake of making amends. Baron Zemo is a generous man for those who deserve it, and he finally smiles.

The Avengers collectively sigh in relief, and Hawkeye climbs to the fence to sit on it, though at a safe distance from the black horse:

“I just wanna ask something…” he begins, frowning and fighting a playful grin. “… you and Steve… you never _did it_ on the couch, right?”

“Or in the lift…” Banner adds:

“Or on the kitchen isle…” Natasha joins in, thoroughly enjoying Zemo’s sudden redness:

“Or in the gym…” Falcon is immediately on board, and only Thor refuses to pry on his friends’ intimate affairs.

Uncomfortable at first, Baron Zemo remembers all the important social skills he learned in his stay at the Avengers Tower and smiles mischievously, despite being red as a pepper:

“Hm… guess you will never know…” He shrugs, his voice so smug Hawkeye feels like he was physically attacked and nearly loses balance from his perch.

The sound of beating hooves on the pasture puts an end to the beginning of a battle of wits and the Avengers and Zemo watch as a grey horse darts across the pasture, appearing and disappearing in the fog. Zemo looks expectantly at the ring, and little later Rogers and Tony come out, walking side by side like nothing had happened.

Rogers is smiling, radiant, and laughs as the remaining Avengers rush at him to hug him. Iron Man and Zemo take the chance to exchange a look, and the way Tony rolls his eyes and shrugs has Zemo puffing his chest, proudly: _victory is his_.

* * *

 

Now they stand on the large dining room, waiting for Rogers to shower and for Emilie to finish lunch. Siegfried the cat purrs happily on Natasha’s arms; Bruce, Clint and Thor are telling Zemo about The Quest For Castle Zemo, talking over each other way too loudly and excitedly; Sam and Tony have befriended the dogs.

Zemo has missed this cacophony.

“You have a most glorious castle, Helmut!” Thor comments, looking around. It feels rather homely to him, with all the armours in display. Sitting on the floor and rubbing one of the Rottweiler’s belly, Tony looks around with a deadpan expression:

“Could use a bit more windows, though…”

“Yeah, but this gloom is very dramatic. Fits you perfectly, Baron!” Clint looks around as well. “I thought you had a big tapestry or a painting with a fancy genealogic tree…”

“Upstairs,” Zemo replies. There’s indeed a huge tapestry of the Zemo genealogic tree in one of the living rooms – the one with the piano, where Zemo and Rogers spend most of their free time. Zemo doesn’t like to look at it, because it reminds him that the Zemo lineage ends on him – _unless_ he can invent an heir, though his last experience with a Zemo cyborg was not pleasing. So far, he has successfully avoided any guilt his relationship with Rogers could bring, and as he had invited the Avengers to stay for lunch he could only think with amusement at how Heinrich Zemo would be kicking and screaming in his resting place.

Rogers shows up at the same time Emilie informs that lunch is ready. Zemo and the super-heroes sit together at the table, talking about unimportant matters such as German traffic rules. The mood is light and relaxed, and Rogers and Zemo feel comfortable about the others knowing about them.

Yet once lunch is over, Zemo leaves Rogers alone with the Avengers because there are still things to discuss. Things that Tony and Rogers didn’t talk about in the ring. And when Rogers finds himself alone with his team, all sitting together on the couch facing the fireplace… that is when Captain America feels uncomfortable for being himself. Nobody says anything immediately after Zemo leaving, and only after a few moments of staring at the flames in the fireplace does Natasha speak:

“So, you’re a general. Fury wants to know about that,” she begins, then looks at Rogers, sitting very straight on his spot on the couch:

“I take it you’ve been covering up for me… That’s why things didn’t go to hell…” Rogers mutters, looking down at his hands. He’s ashamed of how he left, ashamed that others had to clean up his mess. Clint chuckles sadly:

“You totally have not been watching the news and surfing the Web…” he sighs, making Rogers go paler.

“It would be nice to know what happened to you,” Tony requests, nodding thoughtfully. Memories from that argument between him and Rogers are slowly surfacing on his mind, and he doesn’t want that. They’ve made it clear that their friendship is unscathed and Tony does not want to have doubts again.

Rogers sighs, defeated, and tells the Avengers that Zemo continued to hypnotise the Red Skull and Strucker after they left the tower, that Zemo was successful and gained full control of Hydra with no opposition, that now Hydra is starting a super-soldier program aiming at producing and training people capable of helping saving the world. Rogers’ enthusiasm increases significantly as he tells the others how he and Zemo have been selecting candidates that will be injected with the super-soldier serum that Zemo replicated, and that Rogers will then train them all.

Sounds like a perfectly innocent business – it might even work, with Captain America instructing the troops! Zemo and his mania of power are still slightly worrying, though the Avengers must confess – Iron Man included – that the German seems to have been successfully rehabilitated into goodness… otherwise, the super-heroes wouldn’t be in Castle Zemo, with their bellies full and listening to Rogers’ training plans regarding the new Hydra soldiers.

“Maybe remove the Octopus of Doom, too…?” Sam suggests once Rogers is over. All the Avengers nod, because that would mean that Hydra had indeed gone through renovation.

However, Rogers shakes his head. The Great Dane trots into the dining room and makes a beeline towards Rogers, sitting on the floor in front of him and wagging its tail excitedly. Rogers is glad the dog is there to give him an excuse to look away from his friends, feeling suddenly bitter.

Symbols are undoubtedly powerful… but they don’t need to always represent the same.

“People will learn to trust Hydra,” Rogers says, confident:

“People have to learn to trust you again, first…” Iron Man scratches his beard nervously. “Which takes us to the big question, Steve: what are you going to do?”

For a while, Rogers keeps petting the dog. The question is vague enough for an attempt at a humoristic or light-hearted reply. Unfortunately, it’s also very incisive… and though Rogers has the answer, he’s not sure his friends will like it. He himself starts to have doubts, now that his friends came to Germany to look for him and make amends, but Captain America has a mission.

His decision wasn’t made based on a bad argument, but on a loving promise:

“I’m going to be busy with Hydra, for a while…” Rogers finally replies, looking up from the dog to his friends.

The disappointment he sees on his friends’ faces clenches his stomach. He must have grimaced, because Tony smiles apologetically:

“That’s… that’s fine, as long as you’re happy,” he states. Natasha sees an opportunity to bargain:

“And as long as you teleport for just five minutes to explain Fury that Captain America is going to train the new Hydra soldiers…”

Rogers laughs at that, but it’s forced. He let his friends down, so it’s only fair that he spends an hour appeasing Fury – and maybe… maybe the press as well...

The mood brightens a bit among the Avengers, and Hawkeye looks around the dining room once more, with the same attention as if he were seeing it for the first time:

“So, you got two homes, now. How cool is that?!”

* * *

 

Standing by the gate, Rogers watches with amusement as Zemo’s guards queue in front of the Avengers for an autograph and a selfie. The fog has lifted to reveal a cloudy day, but it doesn’t feel as cold as before.

Next to Rogers, Zemo beams: the Avengers are leaving empty-handed, Captain America is going to stay in Germany for a long time (with a little break the next day to pay Fury a visit and assure him Baron Zemo isn’t going to take over the world). But most important of all… the Avengers _accepted them_. Even Iron Man. Why would Zemo need the world if he has Rogers?

The German doesn’t complain when Thor hugs him goodbye with enough strength to break his ribcage, were Zemo an ordinary man. He replies the hug, and also the one Banner gives him, and he’s in such a great mood that it’s him who hugs Hawkeye, much to archer’s horror. He shakes hands with Falcon, Black Widow and Iron Man – and even manages to control a wicked grin as the Avengers accommodate themselves in the mini-van.

Soon enough, the Avengers are driving away, leaving Zemo and Rogers by themselves again. There’s a little, sad smile on Rogers’ face as he watches them go, and Zemo is quick to place a hand on his shoulder and tilt his head towards the castle. They turn their backs to the road and the guards close the gate, talking excitedly among themselves about having met the Avengers.

Rogers allows Zemo to guide him back to the main building, his hand a comfortable weight on Rogers’ shoulder. Once they are inside, they look around to be sure none of Zemo’s staff is nearby and Zemo pulls Rogers close and kisses his forehead:

“It is fixed!” he exclaims cheerfully, and it brings a genuine smile to Rogers’ lips. He nods, nuzzling Zemo in the process:

“It is. I just need to go talk to Fury tomorrow,” And then… it will be over. Captain America will disappear for a while, be replaced by General Rogers. The thought is thrilling, terrifying, concerning and relieving all at the same time. Zemo knows that, so he captures Rogers’ lips in a reassuring kiss:

“Alles wird gut,” he promises.

And indeed… everything turns out just fine. The next day in a conference press at S.H.I.E.L.D., Rogers makes a detailed explanation about how Hydra changed and about Zemo’s projects for it - but what really gives Fury and the public a little hope that things won’t end up in disgrace is that _Captain America_ will be there to train the future super-soldiers and teach them some good old-fashioned sense of honour and duty and generally make sure nobody is fooling around.

After the conference, Rogers can’t resist and teleports to the Avengers Tower, finally causing an accident that had always been meant to happen: the moment he materialises in the living room, Thor, carrying a bowl of cereal while running away from a hungry Hulk, collides with him. Cereal becomes airborne before raining down on the couch… and on whoever is sitting to watch TV:

“We should call Ant-Man to get the cereal from between the cushions…” Hawkeye grunts, groping at his hair to access the damage:

“Or you could bring the vacuum-cleaner…” Natasha suggests from the kitchen, making a mental note to always be the last one to sit down whenever someone is carrying food around:

“And make Cap clean up the mess? I like the sound of that!” Tony agrees, sitting next to Hawkeye and looking with disgust at the cereal on the screen of his tablet. When he looks up at Rogers, however, he has a radiant smile.

He doesn’t really mind to have cereal all over the place if that means he just got a surprise visit from his best friend.

* * *

 

It has been a few weeks since Rogers paid a visit to Fury and to the Avengers. He talks with the team daily on the mobile, and he and Zemo have been busy sorting out applications and scheduling interviews. Zemo is planning to start the official super-soldier program in a month.

At the end of the day, they like to relax a little in the living room with the piano before going to bed, but this time they opt to go to another living room, the one with the TV and the PlayStation for when Zemo’s cousins visit.

Zemo is looking for something interesting to watch when he comes across a news channel. It’s German, but anyone can understand what is going on because of the live fighting scene going on the screen behind the news host: Absorbing Man is wreaking havoc in Manhattan and the Avengers seem to be in trouble. Rogers, who had sprawled lazily on the couch with his head resting on Zemo’s legs, sits up abruptly and for a moment looks like he’ll jump at the TV to magically cross the screen and join his friends in need.

He gradually leans back on the couch, though he clenches his jaw when the news host asks _Wo ist Captain America??_

Captain America is gone now, unfortunately. Rogers is busy with Hydra, and certainly the other super-heroes running around – like Captain Marvel… T’Challa… Ant-Man… - will show up soon enough to help the Avengers.

And, since Rogers doesn’t say a thing, Zemo keeps looking for something interesting for them to watch. He comes across another news channel, this time in English: the Avengers are still struggling with Absorbing Man. Yet, Rogers doesn’t say a thing.

He promised Zemo Hydra would be the priority. That _they_ are the priority.

Yet Baron Zemo is a genius, and he turns off the TV:

“You want to go there,” he states, mildly annoyed. Not because Captain America wants to go help his friends, but because some idiotic villain had decided to ruin their relaxing evening:

“We fought Absorbing Man once, they can handle it…” Rogers replies, forcing a smile. He grows serious as Zemo raises a thin angled eyebrow:

“You want to go there, Steven… isn’t it?” A moment of silence, until Rogers nods. Zemo opens his mouth to speak again, but Rogers is faster, trying to sound nonchalant:

“I don’t have my shield with me, though. So-“

“Spare me that, Steven… You are more than a shield!” the German laughs at Rogers’ baffled expression, then stares at him fondly.

Rogers had promised him that Avengers business would no longer interfere with them. It had been said between strangled sobs and longing whispers when Zemo was still fighting off the Deathspore virus, when Rogers had first come to Castle Zemo. The German had been pleased, then. He had thought it was one problem less for them _(for him)_.

Back then, he hadn’t acknowledged what the Avengers meant to _him_. He was too overwhelmed by the happiness of having Rogers back. But he understands, now. The whole team and friends and family things. He understands relationships and sacrifices and love. He’s so much more brilliant than his father…

Helmut Zemo is also a much better man than Heinrich Zemo.

Realisation dawns on Rogers, and his face changes from surprised to grateful:

“Besides…” Zemo adds, standing up from the couch and stretching a hand to Rogers. “We can always teleport to the Avengers Tower first, for you to suit up.”

* * *

 

Absorbing Man hadn’t been that difficult to defeat the first time. Annoying, yes. A bit troublesome too. Hawkeye’s arrows had worked on the guy, but seemed Absorbing Man has perfected his skills to not only absorb and coat his skin with substances, but also enhance them a little.

Energy blasts and lasers and lightning are working, though. Just a little too slowly for the Avengers’ liking…

Right now, Absorbing Man has the consistency of dirt, which means the Avengers are having a bit of trouble in both securing and hitting him – and this is a totally valid reason for Tony Stark to be against flower-pots on the entrance of office buildings, they’re too easily accessible for this sort of villains.

Hawkeye is slapped away by Absorbing Man and stumbles backwards, twists himself as he loses balance and falls face-down in the middle of the street. He immediately pushes himself up and arranges the glasses on his face… and there are two pairs of booted feet in front of him. He gasps and looks up, to see Captain America – Rogers with his suit and shield! - and Baron Zemo, also wearing his suit and pink mask, looking down at him.

The archer gasps again:

“What are you looking at??? Go fight that guy!!!!” he shrieks out of excitement because _Captain America and Baron Zemo are here to help the Avengers_!!

The two super-soldiers need no further incentive and run into the fray. Everyone – Absorbing Man included – are momently shocked as they see a shield flies into the scene and whacks Absorbing Man on the head, then returns to Rogers’ hand. Shock turns into cheering as Zemo takes the chance that their enemy is stunned and shoots at him with his pistols.

Rogers’ arrival boosts the super-heroes’ morale and Iron Man is glad to leave him in charge of the strategical aspects of the battle. Within minutes, Absorbing Man is defeated and incarcerated under an electrical net until S.H.I.E.L.D. arrives to pick him up.

The moment there is no more danger, reporters and civilians rush to Rogers, taking pictures and asking questions and praising him. A recurrent question is about his role at Hydra, and eventually the reporters’ attention turns to Baron Zemo as well and for about two minutes he has all the micros and cameras he wants to promote his new Hydra, until the reporters grow tired of being a means to publicity and focus solely on Captain America.

Iron Man takes the chance that Zemo is no longer surrounded by reporters and pulls him aside, lifting the visor of his headpiece:

“I thought… I thought Steve was busy with you, in Germany!” Tony exclaims, and hurries to rephrase the moment the Hulk and Clint burst out laughing. “Busy with Hydra stuff!”

Zemo shrugs. Now that the Avengers have seen him unmasked so many times, and especially after this time apart, the super-heroes find themselves unaccustomed with the sight of Baron Zemo’s pink mask:

“Well… it seems that there is still room for friends,” the German replies with his usual tone: calm, confident and bordering arrogance. Yet he means every word he says, and the Avengers know that as well. All of them, Iron Man included. The Avengers’ quest in Germany was enlightening for both super-heroes and Baron Zemo: finding Rogers happy and cared for and _at home_ showed the Avengers – _showed Tony_ – that they didn’t need to worry about Rogers, because Zemo would take care of him; having the Avengers showing up in his castle to sort things out with Rogers and let him be with Zemo showed the German that he was finally welcome.

And Baron Zemo is a gracious winner and magnanimous in his victory: Rogers loves him, so he can accept the Avengers without fear that they’re more important than him.

“Don’t get sappy…” Hawkeye grunts, though he smiles widely and pats Zemo’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, let me know what you think of these two idiots.
> 
> Also a happy New Year, everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to know your thoughts. Feedback is always welcomed and treasured. :)


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